Love Under Contract
by Razorblade Mistress
Summary: When Gon and Killua are joined by Misaki, a girl who claims to be motivated solely by the opportunity to help them on their current mission in the Volcanic Islands, young love eventually begins to blossom. However, Misaki is not everything she seems, and perhaps there is more than just the age difference that ought to deter Killua from pursuing his developing feelings... Rated T.
1. Prologue: The Job Offer

"Will you accept?"

The young adult girl gazed thoughtfully back in to the cold, blackened eyes of the man she had only recently become reacquainted with. The ivory ceiling fan gleamed lightly as the headlights from vehicles far beyond the motel window occasionally reflected upon it mid-whirl. Her pale fingers were entwined in the sweaty, alabaster sheets as she considered his offer.

"I guess I should have known better than to think that after five years on hiatus, you would contact me just for a spontaneous romp in the sack," she chuckled softly as the very corners of her lips upturned.

She drew the pad of her right, index finger to her bottom lip and tapped it slowly, rhythmically, as she wholly absorbed the sight of his long, ebony strands of hair scattered wildly about the pillow case.

An abrupt sigh escaped her.

"I accept, I suppose… but to be clear, I don't much appreciate being invited here under false pretenses," she explained firmly, despite the dreamy glint in her amber eyes.

"You assumed the purpose of my proposal," Illumi replied, his tone devoid of any traceable emotion. "I only stated on the phone that I wished to meet with you; I never said the reason."

The girl rolled lazily on to her back, petting down the many disheveled strands of deep plum shaded hair as she did so. As much effort and energy as she routinely placed in to her strict composure, it seemed that even after borrowing years to ignore her completely the Zoldyck still knew how to handle her almost _too_ well..

Her eyes danced from the scattered assortment of clothing across the floor (that created a littered path up to the bed) over to the digital alarm clock on the night stand that stated "3:05" in bold red. Was it past three already?

'_Time flies when you're having fun, they say_,' she mused.

"You win," she grinned sheepishly as she repositioned herself on top of him with her knees slightly parted. "There _are_ a couple of conditions, though."

"…And they are?"

"One: this counts as the favor I owe you… and two…"

Her purple hair tipped forward as she did, the ends scarcely touching his chin while her face hovered inches from his.

"…You can't just disappear for another handful of years without giving me my fix," she teased with an arched brow.

"Deal," he agreed with a shrug.

Misaki hadn't changed at all since the last he had met with her, Illumi realized, and fortunately she was still fairly easy for him to manipulate. While he had indeed requested to meet with her to discuss the job he wanted her to do for him, it was definitely far less unanticipated than he'd let on when it came to the sex. If there was anything he had learned about managing her in the past, it was that she was quite stoic and stubborn generally. However, her apparent fondness for him could always be exploited between the sheets, and so long as he played his cards right he knew that she would bend to his will without further encouraging.

Give a little, get a lot.

"Well, since that's settled…" Misaki responded in a husky whisper.

Her nails slowly raked down his bare chest as she retreated below the shelter of the covers. The heat of her breath trailed across his skin and he let out a nearly inaudible gurgle and closed his eyes once she'd reached her destination.

He supposed even the "giving" was hardly a burden sometimes...


	2. Chapter One: First Meeting

'_Hiking boots probably aren't the best choice of footwear in this heat_,' Misaki pondered dismally from beneath the shade of her alternately grey and black parasol.

Admittedly the girl was presently miserable more so due to her lack of having found Killua Zoldyck than from the sweltering wave of heat hanging densely in the air. She supposed there were simpler ways to locate the boy than by aimlessly wandering the busy streets in the continent of Berraudney***** (where she'd been instructed that he was last sighted). Nevertheless if she wanted their encounter to seem authentically random, perhaps this was the best way to approach it.

Besides, these were her old stomping grounds. If anyone knew their way around the fairly small continent, it was Misaki.

"Excuse me," a young male's voice called out politely from behind her, "I just wanted to ask where you got that umbrella?"

She turned with only half interest, a neutral expression on her face, to see a young, tanned boy with spiky hair and green shorts. His smile was genuine and wide, and in spite of herself Misaki nearly returned the sentiment before catching herself. Regardless, the boy resonated with her as reasonably harmless, if not fairly naïve.

"Oh, you like it, do you?" she asked blankly, nodding upwards at the parasol.

"Well, it's just that it's _really_ sunny and hot, and that seems like a really good idea to stay cool," he explained with bright eyes.

"Gon! There you are! I told you to stay close or we'll get separated in this crowd," grumbled a new voice from within the rustling mass of people, struggling to see over the sea of heads.

_Gon_…

The name quickly connected in the woman's brain as the travelling 'friend' of Killua. This certainly had taken a turn in her favor, and she was determined to complete her mission at any cost. This was her honor; she accepted only contracts which she would finish.

"Gon Freecss?" she asked suddenly, and the tanned boy looked astonished.

"How did you know?"

"Don't be modest. You're quite well known for making it to the two hundredth floor at the Heaven's Arena," Misaki lied with a wink, putting to use those tidbits of information she received prior.

Finally the silver haired boy who had cried out earlier managed to weave his way through the crowd and over to his friend. Misaki immediately found satisfaction in the recognition that this had to be Killua, as he matched the description she'd been given almost exactly. Illumi had offered her a photograph, but that was for amateurs, as far as she was concerned.

She could effectively create a distinct mental image based on a good physical description, and that was her way.

"Gon, didn't you hear me calling?" Killua scolded.

"Sorry, Killua," he apologized rapidly, "but I was just talking to…"

"Tanoh, Misaki," she filled in for him, bowing slightly to the boys.

"Misaki-san knows about me from the Heavens Arena," Gon relayed excitedly.

"Is that so?" Killua replied unenthusiastically.

His crystal blue eyes scanned her from the sheer, blackened bandana hanging around her neck to the fingerless leather gloves adorning her hands and down to her tan and brown hiking boots with the coral laces. By the time he met her gaze, his eyes had hardened some with suspicion.

It was this suspicion that further revealed to Misaki the relation of the boy to her client, as she had personally spent years of tireless urging in her youth to persuade Illumi that she was even a possible ally to him. Even now she wasn't particularly convinced that he believed so, but that was hardly a topic she found worth exploring at the moment.

_ 'Work comes first_,' she reminded herself.

"Well, it was nice to meet you but we have things to do," Killua told her in a fairly bored tone of voice. Turning on his heel, he called back, "Let's go, Gon."

"You don't want to know where to buy one of these?" she asked seriously, twirling the umbrella in her fingers once.

"Yes, ple-"

"We'll find it ourselves," Killua interrupted, grasping his friends' wrist and dragging him away from the plum haired girl.

With an apologetic smile, Gon waved back at her and shouted out, "Bye, Misaki-san! Maybe we'll see each other again sometime!"

Misaki nodded politely as the boys vanished in to the group.

Reaching in to the back pocket of her mid-thigh length denim shorts, she retrieved her small, silvery cellular phone and flipped it open. Nonchalantly, she scrolled to her text messaging screen, located the number she sought, and typed, "_Found him_" before touching her thumb to the 'send' button and snapping the device shut with ease.

"You can count on it, Gon," she mumbled under her breath as she retracted her aura and milled her way through the busy streets, keeping her target in appropriate stalking distance from her.

* * *

*** Berraudney: A fictional name for a presently unnamed continent in the Hunter x Hunter world I made by combining the names of Canberra and Sydney- two cities in Australia. FYI, I am not personally from Australia.  
**


	3. Chapter Two: Plotting

"I don't trust her," Killua announced sternly to his friend as the two strolled at a walking pace down the heavily congested street.

"Why not?" Gon asked, genuinely surprised to hear the news. "She was just going to tell us where to buy an umbrella. I'm the one that asked her in the first place."

The blue eyed boy's expression soured noticeably. Truth be told, he didn't particularly trust _anyone_ upon first meeting them. However this situation was (he was convinced), somehow abnormal compared to dealing with the typical suspicious passerby.

"If all she wanted was to answer your question, why would she bother introducing herself?" he pointed out matter-of-factually.

This was hardly enough to deter his naïve friend, and Gon simply replied with a shrug, "She already knew who I was, so she was just being polite, I think."

Killua forced his relaxed fists in to his wide but shallow pockets, lowering his gaze to the sidewalk below. As much as he appreciated Gon for his openness and his honesty, he was aware that the tanned boy needed him during times like this, since he was admittedly the more cautious of the two when identifying impending danger.

"How would she know anything about you fighting at the Heavens Arena, anyways?" the former assassin challenged. "I fought there as little kid, and nobody recognized me for it. Besides, why would you be famous for losing half of your nen fights?"

Gon's face fell, baffled and enthralled in thought.

After a moment he captured his chin in a sweaty palm before agreeing in a pensive, half-persuaded murmur, "Oh, I guess that's true…"

A wave of relief washed over Killua at the response. It was not exactly the way he'd have preferred Gon to react, but at least he was coming around. Besides, it was unlikely that the stubborn island boy would surrender entirely to his arguments, so in retrospect this was probably the best case scenario comparatively.

The two continued in silence for a few consecutive moments before Gon's voice started up again:

"Hey Killua, how will we know when we've found the person that will guide us to the Volcanic Islands? Satotz-san didn't give us any clues besides saying that we could find his friend on this continent."

Killua removed his hands from his pockets, stretching his arms out vertically before bending them in at the elbows behind his head.

"I guess we'll have to search for Archaeological Hunters that either live or spend a lot of time here," he mused aloud. "Of course, if they're Archaeological Hunters, there's no guarantee they would be so easy to find, assuming that information is even available at all. They would probably be travelling all the time, too, and if they've discovered something then it's not very likely there would be anything posted about the location for a while..."

"If Satotz-san sent us here, then there must be a way to find them," Gon piped up, and the sincerity in his tone was nearly enough to set his companion's mind at ease.

With a small smile Killua said, "You're probably right."

* * *

'_Ah, so they're searching for a guide to the Volcanic Islands,_' Misaki pondered optimistically to herself.

She narrowed her amber eyes at the two prepubescent boys as they rounded the corner ahead of her, ignorant as to how physically close she'd dared to advance behind them. She loitered back for several moments now, unwilling to risk being detected- especially now that she had discovered something she could use. This was (in her opinion), an excellent binge of information, and one that coincidentally played actively in to her favor as well. A true (often closeted) nature fanatic at heart, the girl was adequately familiar with the Volcanic Islands; a tourist-attracting region located on the Yorbian continent.

Now the challenge that presented itself so delicately before her was rooted in whether she was capable of convincing the boys that she was indeed the hunter they sought. This alone she deemed as fairly difficult, however the tip of the iceberg revealed itself as the inescapable hands of time, which continued to count down an indiscernible collection of perhaps days, hours, minutes, or seconds as to when and if they would happen upon the _real_ hunter they'd been sent for.

If a third party winded their way in to the mix, Misaki knew her job would become unnecessarily complicated. Thus, _she_ had to be that third party among the boys' travels.

'_How to do it?_' she wondered.

Killua was admirably suspicious of the unknown, or so she had realized between their first actual encounter and the conversation she was not supposed to have overheard. While this trait held a great quantity of purpose in practice, it also hindered the young woman from performing an action as relatively simplistic as openly unveiling her false "secret identity" as this hunter that "Satotz" had expected them to greet. No, the young assassin boy would never buy such contrived bullshit.

'_His little friend probably would_,' she thought with mild amusement. '_Illumi is worried for nothing it seems. Killua is the rational one. Gon is so trusting that he would be the one to lead them to hell's gates, if the devil smiled sweetly enough for him..._'

...And that's when the solution practically unfolded itself neatly in her lap. With a determined expression, Misaki resumed trailing the boys with her fingers crossed that ultimately their search for the unrevealed Archaeological Hunter would lead them toward the dangerous regions of Berraudney, which she was insistent to prohibit them from falling prey to.

'_The race is on_,' she mused earnestly, expertly securing her closed parasol diagonally in the suede sling across her back, '_but all I can do for now is wait in the shadows._'

* * *

**A/N:**** I just wanted to thank Princesspeachie99 and Colorless Butterfly for reviewing. Much appreciated! :)**


	4. Chapter Three: Fight

The greater portion of an afternoon had lagged wearily past before the boys finally motioned to leave the hustle and bustle of the city. Unbeknownst to them of course, a patient yet anxious Misaki was in tow, her amber eyes fixated pointedly on her young target whilst he and his companion performed routinely mundane acts of man in the form of window shopping and eating.

By the time the sun had entered in to its permanent evening custom, initiating its cycle of setting behind the trees in the far west, she was both concerned and relieved that the two were heading out in to the long stretch of forest.

'_Are they truly leaving the city so close to nightfall?_' she wondered in disbelief.

She studied the pair as they persisted to chat casually on and off while simultaneously following the reddened, dirt path through the mass of trees and fauna. Misaki was aware that they were too relaxed, especially considering the infamous pack of bandits that resided there. Any of the townspeople could have relayed this information, and this immediately revealed to her that clearly the two had not actually worked to gauge the potential threats in unfamiliar territory.

'_Perhaps I dismissed Illumi's concerns too quickly_,' she realized as she resumed following the boys in stealth.

* * *

Gon and Killua had been stalking along the path for a decent lapse of time before either of them spoke again. Each minute past claimed more and more of the faint light guiding them, replacing it with ominous shadows. Among the shadows an occasional rustling could be heard, seemingly echoing from every direction.

"Killua, did you hear that?" Gon finally asked, glancing around in an attempt to locate the source of the sound.

"Yeah, we're being followed," Killua answered calmly.

"Oh, really?"

"They've been tracking us for probably about twenty minutes," he concurred. "Their movements are pretty predictable, though, so I've just been paying attention to where they are in case they actually try something. There's only about four, anyway."

Gon's muscles eased ever so slightly and he smiled. His friend could always be counted on in situations like these, and he was both pleased and grateful to be journeying at his side.

"How long until we reach the next city?" the tanned boy questioned in a faraway tone.

Killua scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully.

"About… another hour or two maybe. Three, tops."

In an instant, a small projectile hurled its way directly toward the silver haired boy. Fortunately, he was prepared for the onslaught, and dodged it quickly, even managing to seize the object, a blow dart, between his thumb and index finger.

'_Idiots…_' the boy mused to himself at the sight of the poison which coated the sharpened tip.

"Which one of you threw that?" Killua asked in a fairly unmoved voice. As he spoke next, he pointed toward the directions in which he had detected the assailants from earlier. "Was it you, in that tree…you, behind that bush…you, under that fallen log … or maybe you, inside that opening in the rock?"

The response was utter silence (beyond the natural murmurs of nocturnal life).

Gon had meanwhile assumed a defensive position, his eyes cautiously circling the areas Killua had pointed out.

"Come on, I just want to know who I should give this back to," the blue eyed boy teased with a wicked grin on his face. When there was once more no reply of any sort, he added, "If no one will own up, I'll have to guess."

Without further warning, Killua lunged with enhanced speed toward the aforementioned split rock, launching the dart between the separated layers with a lightning quick hand. The former assassin, despite his comments, of course knew that the only logical source of the previous attack- taking in to account the angle at which the weapon had been propelled- was indeed from this particular hiding place. A cry of agony enveloped the night and then lessened and paralyzed, presumably as the poison took effect on its new victim.

During Killua's retaliation, Gon had also acted. The moment his friend had planted his initial step toward the boulder, the tanned boy selected the tree opposite and effortlessly relied on his acceleration to aid him in climbing it with a single leap. The man, dressed all in black with a bandana concealing his mouth, was ill prepared for such a feat and thus a single, well-placed blow from Gon's strong fist fired him helplessly from the branch. He was rendered unconscious before even touching the ground below, and Gon eagerly returned to the path to cover any possible offensive toward Killua's back.

Unfortunately this marked the end of the chain of personal triumphs for the boys, and in an unanticipated instant, a generous collection of perhaps five more similarly adorned men surrounded them, aura's flowing in a controlled rage. The only one with a band of red cloth encircling his left arm, presumably the leader, attempted the first advance alone. He emitted a fairly thick string of crescent-shaped beams, which cluttered the tight space that Killua and Gon were presently sealed at.

'_Damn_,' Killua cursed himself mentally, unable to locate an opening to escape the assault through.

Just as the boys hastily attempted to activate a defensive aura, still anticipating painful contact in a multitude of areas on the body, a new aura emerged from the flora around them. The sight of a horizontally angled, open black and grey parasol caught their eye, expanded many times larger than even those created to shade multiple individuals at once, and shielded them from the attack. Following this defensive maneuver, Killua and Gon then realized that its owner, standing erect and facing away from them, was the purple haired girl they had encountered in the city during the late morning.

She firmly grasped the hooked, black handle and took advantage of her grip to lift the engorged frame of the umbrella above her head with a confident arm. Immediately, the size returned to normal and the metal veins collapsed and closed easily. Without a word spoken, she heaved the unusual weapon at the still stupefied "leader", impaling through his abdomen with the protruding tip.

Fragmented organs and blood showered the greenery as the parasol proceeded to open itself once inserted, and an earth-shattering _crack_ indicated the fatal buckling of his spine. The shell of his body caved helplessly, folding lazily on the crimson drenched ground.

"It's the 'Bandit Basher'!" one of the remaining men cried in horror, and not a single assailant wasted even a moment's time before retreating promptly in to the night.

Misaki extended her right hand gracefully, and the parasol closed and returned to her hand as if magnetized. She casually shook the bulk of blood from the material before sheathing it in the sling upon her back.

Gon rushed to her, and in an excited voice he exclaimed, "Wow, that was- "

"…Incredibly stupid," she interrupted, rotating to face Killua with her amber eyes seemingly drilling in to his depths.

Killua's eyes narrowed at her, hardly receptive to her obvious criticism.

"Do you at least see your mistake?" she asked seriously. When he did not respond, she added, "If you had asked even one of the people in that city about this forest, they would have told you that it is swarming with bandits. Some aren't experienced, like the ones you noticed right away, but others have been living this lifestyle for years and do know nen. You assumed that simply because the enemies you detected were not nen users that you were safe, and so you let your guard down."

The silver haired boy's muscles clenched and his face lowered despite his eyes remaining fixated on the girl. While he despised being lectured, especially by virtually a complete stranger, the real cause of his irritation was the truth in her words.

"Furthermore," she continued firmly, "behaving pompously in no way guarantees a win. In fact, you actually gave your opponents _more_ time to plan their attack, in this case."

Killua clenched his fists with enough force to cause them to shake vigorously, but he still said nothing in return. Misaki nodded dutifully to herself.

"Well that settles it. I'm coming with you," she announced in a manner that indicated there was to be no questioning the matter.

"Wait a minute," Killua interjected, finally finding his voice lingering below his damaged pride. "Who says we want you to come with us? Thanks, but we don't need your help."

As though she were entirely unfazed by the malice in his tone, she replied, "Your actions say otherwise. Besides, Satotz would be disappointed to hear that you turned me away."

With a beaming grin, Gon suddenly gasped out enthusiastically, "You mean you're…?"

Misaki winked and agreed, "Yes, I am the Hunter that will take you to the Volcanic Islands."


	5. Chapter Four: Distrust

The journey through the remainder of the forest borrowed only forty-five minutes or so to clear, and while Gon was ecstatic over Misaki's obvious knowledge of the layout beyond simply pursuing the dirt path, Killua found himself inwardly fuming. His estimate had originally capped at three hours, and he was left with an ill temper at the fact that this girl had once again made him look foolish.

In reality Gon had long forgotten the prediction Killua had announced earlier. He was far too eager to embark on their excursion to the Volcanic Islands now that they had happened upon their guide, but perhaps the young Zoldyck would still have bitter feelings toward the girl even if this actually was brought to light…

"So you were following us the whole time then," Killua had stated in an accusatory manner once the trio had reached the quiet city.

"Of course," Misaki agreed calmly, brushing aside a loose strand of hair that had slipped out of her high ponytail on the updraft.

"Why didn't you just tell us who you were when we met you earlier?" he prodded sternly.

With an unmoved tone or expression, she lied, "You hardly gave me a chance before you bolted."

Killua's brows knitted uneasily as he argued, "If you were following us all day, you had plenty of chances."

"Yes," she replied, keeping her exterior relaxed as she frantically worked to mentally compose an excuse, "but I decided to study you, to see if you were worthy of my time."

"Obviously we failed," he pressed on, "so why take _that _opportunity to reveal yourself?"

'_He's relentless, but very clever in his arguments_,' Misaki mused, ensuring that her body language did not expose her true thoughts. '_I knew this wouldn't be easy._'

"I realized that the two of you need to train in combat discipline," she offered. "You might not even survive on _this_ continent as you are, never mind at the Volcanic Islands."

"Hey, Misaki-san," Gon finally piped in, "what will we be doing in the Volcanic Islands?"

Folding her arms with a reasonable amount of slack across her chest, she responded, "I won't be releasing that information to you until you prove that you're even worthy of going."

In truth, it was a decent, evasive fib that successfully served to stall for time. In the meantime, she could research the necessary details to fabricate an elaborate tale that would convince the boys with ease. After all, she had a _real_ job to do and her honor relied on the fact that it could be completed efficiently.

Misaki could sense Killua's eyes searing savage holes in to her as the boys echoed her footfalls in to the hotel of her choosing. Even so, he'd fallen silent again and she knew that the young assassin would easily be her undoing should her composure falter in the slightest.

'_Ah, such a challenge you present me with, Killua_,' she thought, mildly bemused as she ordered up a pair of adjacent rooms at the front desk. '_You really are Illumi's brother._'

Once the card keys had exchanged hands with the boys, Misaki led the way to the elevator. A breath she had not realized she'd been holding slipped from her lips as she matched the number on her laminated card to the door.

"The night is still young and so are we," she said a little too seriously as she inserted the rectangular key in to the slot. "So we sleep for now. At dawn we rise."

She disappeared behind the door, leaving behind only a soft but monotonous _click_ in her place as the door secured on its hinges.

* * *

"She's lying," Killua insisted, positioned on his back with his palms cupping the nape of his neck on the bed parallel to his friend's.

"How can you tell?"

"Satotz told us that the mission at the Volcanic Islands was urgent," he explained, staring at the high, stippled ceiling above. "If that's so, why would we be wasting more time here?"

"Well if we're not ready, why not?" Gon questioned with wide, innocent eyes as a disbelieving frown arched its way along his mouth. "Do you think we should take the risk that she's not Satotz-san's friend?"

Killua narrowed his gaze and lowered his brows. While he may have agreed with Gon's words, he did not particularly want to admit it. In all honesty, he was finding it increasingly difficult to continue concocting reasonable excuses to defy Misaki. Of course he still questioned her motivations, but for each accusation fired towards the girl it seemed that a satisfactory response was always available. He disliked this- being incapable of materializing his suspicions for others, especially Gon- but with no further ammunition to load his arguments against her, he decided to temporarily admit defeat.

"I guess you're right," the silver haired boy murmured, "but I still don't trust her."

* * *

The buzzing of her phone vibrating against the bathroom counter greeted Misaki as she leisurely stepped out of the shower. She coiled the white, terrycloth towel around her body and reached for the device, her wet and weighed down hair leaving a small pool of water behind her on the tile floor.

Below her original message- "**Do you know a 'Satotz'?"**- which she had sent immediately upon entering the suite was a reply:

"**He was an examiner at the Hunter Exam the year the three of us were applicants**."

Misaki rolled her head back pensively. It wasn't much to draw from, and she sincerely hoped that she would be capable of continuing this charade long enough to finish her contract. Sighing, she snapped the phone shut with slightly more force than necessary and prepared for bed. Even sleep was hardly a solace, as she knew full well that she would be required to enter in to only a shallow sleep in case her target attempted escape during the night.

'_Earning Killua's trust will take a while_,' she told herself inwardly as she tossed back the comforter and slipped between the sheets, '_but finishing this job to Illumi's specifications might actually take even longer._'

A sizable frown wove its way through her lips as she closed her eyes, unenthused about playing "personal trainer" in the morning She considered the pay, or lack thereof, that she was receiving for such a premeditated headache before drifting in to a controlled slumber with her head lightly resting on the now generously damp pillowcase.

'_Why does the sex have to be so damn good?_' was her final, self-pitying thought before her mind withdrew into a meditative state for the remainder of the late evening.


	6. Chapter Five: Telephone Conversation

As the day drew to a close, Misaki found herself still fairly wide awake and therefore restless during her second evening in the hotel suite. Truthfully she'd have preferred to be moving along, as needlessly lingering in one spot irked her some. However, the boys had exerted themselves so laboriously while fighting a considerable wave of bandits back in the forest (disguised as her intention of "training"), that she opted to allow them a night of rest rather than travel.

This of course had served more so for Misaki to evaluate both Gon and Killua by setting her up in a position to study their approach to battle. It also gave her a bird's eye view of their nen abilities in action, and the strength of their resolve and morale. While she had indeed been genuinely impressed by both boys' agility and stamina, which were admittedly greater than her own had been at such a young age, something still bothered her.

"The rules are: there are no rules," she'd announced before they came to arms with the first group. "You're free to kill them if you wish."

Yet, neither of them had even _attempted_ to take advantage of this liberty. More correctly, the young woman was abashed to discover that _Killua _was unwilling to slaughter his opponents…

If there had been only a single, truly significant test that could be pin pointed in her desire to pit the boys against the bandits, this would have been it… and Killua Zoldyck, the _assassin_, had somehow failed.

Now Misaki sat propped against the headboard on her temporary bed, her hiking boots still on and her right knee tented up as she worked to analyze her observations. She happened to glance toward her phone, which was placed at her right upon the unused collection of secondary pillows, and reached half-heartedly for it as the bluish-green light signaled an incoming call.

As she brought the device nearer to her, the display name _Illumi Z_ came in to focus. In spite of herself, she smiled slightly as she positioned the receiver to her ear.

"Slow work week?" she teased immediately upon accepting the line. "I would think you'd generally have a job on a weekday evening."

Ignoring her joke completely, Illumi said, "Have you gathered any information yet?"

"Not much," she admitted, her lips turning neutral, "but to be fair, today was the first day I really spent with them."

"You've joined with them?"

"I found an opening, so I couldn't resist," she explained. "It's the best way to make a judgment based on the criteria you've given me, anyway. They were looking for a friend of this '_Satotz_' guy, and I guess I fit the bill."

Silence.

She continued, "I did get to study their combat techniques today against that troupe of bandits I used to use as target practice. They were quite impressive." She bit her lip, momentarily hesitant to add, "They wouldn't kill any, though. I told them they were free to, but even so they refused… My first impression is that you're probably spot-on about Killua's friend being a bad influence on his skills as an assassin."

"I figured as much," Illumi replied hollowly.

"He definitely comes across as pretty naïve, especially next to Killua. I wouldn't doubt that he was the one that decided to trounce through the forest last night without any knowledge of the dangers in it… but that's speculation. I'll be able to judge something like that a lot easier now from this close up."

"Good," he stated flatly. "Don't forget, if the verdict is that Gon is a danger to Killua…"

"…I'll kill him at once," Misaki agreed, finishing his sentence. "Yes, I remember the deal."

"See to it that you don't forget," Illumi warned, his tone nevertheless still monotonous.

"I never accept a contract that I don't intend to finish _completely_," she reminded him firmly. She delivered a quick parting sentiment of, "Later," before selecting the '_end_' button on her keypad.

* * *

The electronic _click_ in Illumi's ear urged him to holster his phone. Things seemed to be going far better than expected, and with any luck Misaki would be capable of relaying to him a full conclusion within the week. Certainly he'd hired the right person for such a feat.

Still, he found it necessary to perform check-ins on her every so often, as he was not particularly trusting of those who did not share his blood. Being an assassin- called upon repeatedly to dispose of individuals- also left him uneasy at the notion of hiring a separate entity to carry out a job he should have been able to do himself.

However, he did not hold any desire to tangle with Hisoka, to whom he had previously agreed that he would not advance upon Gon. Misaki was a very useful tool in this way, as he was able to then enforce his duty as elder brother and protect both Killua and the family business which the latter was to inherit.

_He_ was not a threat to Gon, _Misaki_ was, and such an alibi was almost a perfect cry of innocence as far as his old acquaintance should be concerned. Then if there was any possibility of Misaki becoming Hisoka's target after the fact, he would simply kill her himself to avoid the opportunity for her to betray him during battle by unveiling his involvement as far as Gon's demise.

Meanwhile, he simply had to sit back and wait… and occasionally meet with Misaki to encourage her with sexual interactions, but this was a very small price to pay considering the weight between the lines of the contract.


	7. Chapter Six: Game Center Conversation

Finding the confines of their hotel room dreadfully boring after a long day of constant battle, Killua suggested that the two boys take a short trip to the small arcade center he'd noticed tucked in to the far corner of the lobby downstairs. Gon enthusiastically agreed, and so the duo raced down four flights of stairs (since the elevator was slow to react to the call button, and they had decided that comparatively it would probably take less time on foot). There were only three game machines as far as their options went- a racing one, a mirrored dance pad, and a colored tile matching puzzle- and ultimately the pair settled on the Tetris variant.

"I think we did well today," Gon grinned as he shifted the joystick on the second player side. "Misaki-san had nothing bad to say about any of our fights, and we won them all."

"She had nothing to say about _anything_, good _or_ bad," Killua pointed out, his eyes all the while fixated on his half of the screen.

"Yes! Ten thousand points!" Gon shouted triumphantly as the majority of two rows disappeared from his pile.

"I'll catch up, just you wait!"

For several minutes, the two worked fast and furiously, Gon with his tongue pinched between his lips and off to the side, to outdo the other.

"Level two!" Killua finally gloated.

"Eh?! How did you get there already?" Gon asked, impressed.

"I do have more experience with video games than you do," Killua explained with a sideways smirk, "but also I'm just really good."

The silver haired boy glanced toward Gon's section of the split screen and secretly slowed down his own maneuvers some to allow his friend to catch up.

"She seemed a bit put off about us not taking her up on the offer to kill them," Killua said.

"You noticed that, too?" Gon replied. "I thought maybe I was imagining that."

"No, she was definitely uncomfortable about it," the blue eyed boy confirmed. "She did a good job of keeping her facial expression relaxed, but I definitely sensed her muscles tighten when we declined. Trust me; I know the signs for that kind of thing."

Gon did believe him of course, but he had a difficult time connecting the dots in his mind as to why she would have preferred for them to fatally injure their opponents.

"Do you think her reasoning has to do with something we'll be doing at the Volcanic Islands?" the tanned boy questioned aloud.

"Could be," Killua responded plainly.

The ex-assassin still found her behavior suspicious and therefore untrustworthy in his mind.

"She distances herself from us," he added in a pensive tone. "I mean, she didn't even offer a single suggestion to help us improve all day. She just stood there and watched us, more like she was looking for something specific."

"You think so?" Gon asked seriously.

"Yeah. Then, when we got back here she just went to her room and shut herself away from us. It's like she's _trying_ to keep herself separate…"

"Level three!" the spiky haired boy exclaimed suddenly, and the other rapidly glanced over and mentally kicked himself for unwittingly allowing his companion to overtake him.

"That's it, now it's war!" Killua challenged as he sped up his actions tenfold.

* * *

Latent in the shadows behind the two boys (having just approached long enough to have overheard them converse about Misaki's apparent segregation from them), was the girl in question. She observed them with a magnetic eye as they bantered back and forth about the electronic game they were playing. In spite of herself, she _almost_ giggled just a _little_.

'_It's nothing personal, boys…' _she covertly half-apologized as she continued to watch them.

Killua was now humorously attempting to shove Gon away from the machine with a palm on his forehead, simultaneously struggling to move the joystick with his non-dominant hand. Gon was having none of this without a fight, and he was fruitlessly venturing to push his own hand against Killua's mid-section in order to counteract the playful attack… despite his arms being just marginally too short to actually reach. This time a small, nearly untraceable smile did form in the very corners of her lips at the ridiculous sight.

"…_It's just business_," Misaki added resolutely, mentally finishing the thought as she retreated towards the elevator from whence she'd come.

Her face briskly returned to neutral. She would activate her En once more when she returned to her room to ensure that the two did not exit the hotel entirely without her knowledge.

Robotically, she opened her phone and selected the name "_Haku K_" from her contact list and typed in the text box:

"**Long time no see/talk. I'll be leaving to the Volcanic Islands from Berraudney's main port tomorrow at noon with two young boys. We need a place to stay for an unknown period of time. Are you open to having house guests right now?**"


	8. Chapter Seven: Water Fight and Arrival

"Gotcha!" Gon bellowed in triumph as the lemon yellow water balloon he'd launched burst on contact with Killua's back.

The latter boy grinned devilishly as he turned and raised his arms until they were horizontally level, palms up and filled to the brim with azure water bombs.

"You fell right in to my trap!" he cackled as he rapidly launched them one at a time toward his friend.

However, Gon was quick too and he managed to evade the playful assault, dodging the "weapons" by weaving through the crowd of people that had milled their way on to the ship's main deck to take in the first awe-inspiring view of the Volcanic Islands. It was unfortunately mostly these bystanders that received an unwelcomed blast of cool water against various regions of the body. Some gasped, others screamed, but the majority took to shouting enraged insults at the two boys- particularly Killua, who was of course the one unintentionally pelting them with aqua-filled rubber.

"Sorry! Sorry! I apologize! Sorry!" Gon excused himself on loop as he shoved through multiple people's legs and occasionally leapt wildly over their heads.

With any luck, Gon assumed perhaps his companion would run out of ammo by the time he was left unshielded by the passengers and back out in the open. With crossed fingers, the island boy feinted left before swinging a hard right, disappearing around the corner.

More determined than ever, Killua amped up his speed and whizzed through the crowd, knocking over several people in the process. He planted his right foot firmly on the floor of the deck before thrusting himself at sharp angle toward the corner Gon had attempted to use in order to evade him, and blindly fired his last balloon in to his friend's face. It exploded in a small spray of water.

"Take that!" Killua shouted simultaneously with his attack.

It was exactly then that Killua realized that he hadn't actually hit Gon. Indeed he'd hit _someone_, but that someone was not his intended target. In fact, he was somewhat stupefied when he recognized the glowering and dripping wet face of Misaki hovering before him. Her hands were stiffly positioned on her hips, making no attempt to wipe away the moisture as it continued to drip incessantly from her flesh and clothing on to the ground.

"Misaki-san!" Gon called to her, abandoning his hiding place behind a box of cargo. "Sorry!"

The tanned boy rushed over to the scene, a single, yellow water bomb still clasped in his hand. Misaki pointed with a straight finger at it.

"Give me that," she demanded, and he obliged without hesitation. "You're supposed to be going to the Volcanic Islands for an important mission, and here you are having a bloody _water fight _on the ship."

Her words were scolding, but her tone was far less harsh than either had presumed it would have been following an unexpected shower of water in the face. Her eyes narrowed at Killua.

"Was this your idea?" she asked firmly.

"We _both _came up with the idea," the silver haired boy argued back, standing his ground unapologetically. "Anyway, who are you? My mom? Don't think just because you're older that you get to boss us around."

The former assassin eyed down the plum haired girl, who surprisingly appeared neither intimidated nor very interested in him now. She suddenly smiled, fairly sarcastically as it were, and casually began to approach Killua.

"We'll be docking in about ten minutes now," she announced calmly, but still with a definite air of authority.

As she passed Killua on her way to the main deck, she flippantly rotated her arm and slammed down the final, confiscated balloon on the very top of his head. The water droplets streamed down from his hair, descending the length of his forehead in a collected puddle. The blue eyed boy scowled as he used the length of his forearm to wipe the moisture from his brows.

"Be on time if you don't want to get left behind," she warned with an indifferent voice as she vanished from sight in to the mass of people.

"That old hag…" Killua cursed ferociously between clenched teeth.

"I guess _she_ won," Gon chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

* * *

"Wow, this place is cool!" Gon exclaimed as the trio advanced down the main street.

There was a vast abundance of people, many with luggage or cameras, littering the city. Nearly everyone seemed enthusiastic or at least contented, and there were several interesting events taking place around them. There was a group of people dressed in thick leaves that were dancing to string music that Gon had never heard before. He could hardly contain his excitement.

"A ton of tourists, though," Killua added, his eyes focused and darting from side to side casually.

"Misaki-san, do we have time to stop somewhere for lunch?" the tanned boy asked hopefully, eyeing the many small cafes and restaurants ahead of them.

"Haku-san is expecting us," she dismissed him, not bothering to turn around as she spoke.

"Lunch would probably only take half an hour," Killua protested, partially sticking up for his friend (and alternately because he still disliked Misaki).

"Responsibilities first, food later," she responded firmly.

"If we're hungry we need to eat," the blue eyed boy actively argued back.

"When duty calls, _everything_ else comes second," Misaki lectured in a tone that promised there was no correct opposing answer.

The boys exchanged glances. Gon shrugged, obviously unsure of whether or not he was partial to the statement, but Killua knew exactly how he felt about it.

'_She sounds just like my family_,' he mentally grumbled, intentionally dragging his feet as he begrudgingly continued to follow.

* * *

Misaki was mildly distracted as she lifted a lightly clenched fist to rap on the door which matched the number she'd been texted the night before. Was this how these boys approached what they had been told was a serious mission; worrying about going out for a fancy lunch? This was hardly acceptable, if not almost completely out of her range of comprehension, and the amber eyed girl was frowning slightly just at the thought.

The vaguely familiar, albeit somewhat aged face of one of her previous employers from her adolescence, Haku Kamaka, appeared before her in the doorway. His thick, black rimmed spectacles were sliding down the bridge of his nose, and his once white, button-up, collared shirt was ever so lightly tinted blue: like his high-waist slacks.

"Misaki-chan, it's been ages!" he greeted her, smiling pleasantly. As he leaned in to pat her on the shoulder, he asked, "…And are these the boys you mentioned?"

She nodded, gesturing to them individually as she replied, "Killua and Gon."

"Nice to meet you boys," he said, offering them each a hand to shake.

"Thanks for letting us stay here," Misaki mumbled in his ear as Haku was finishing up with the introductions.

"Oh, it's really no trouble at all!" he insisted. "Come, come inside! I was just about to eat lunch but it seems I've made far too much for only one person!"

"He does that kind of thing a lot," the purple haired girl whispered back to the boys as they entered the small house.

Haku merely chuckled in response as he led them in to the kitchen.

"I resent that," he joked. "Maybe as an apology, you can help me out while I analyze the seismometer readings."

"Size-mah-?" Gon attempted to repeat.

"Seis-mo-me-ter," Haku pronounced phonetically by syllable as he added three additional soup bowls to the carved wooden table.

"Haku-san studies earthquakes," Misaki explained as she took the liberty to serve everyone's bowl.

"Wow, really?" Gon asked.

"Well, sort of. I study the patterns of earthquakes and record their magnitude so I can decide the cause and effect and pin point any consistencies to help predict the severity of future earthquakes comparative to those in the past, both recent and distant," Haku explained.

Gon's face was seemingly frozen in time. Haku laughed.

"Sorry, I don't get company often and it's easy to forget that not everyone understands the way I talk," he apologized gently.

"That's okay!" Gon said encouragingly as he took a generous sip of broth. "I am curious about your job, though, Haku-san."

"Job?" Haku repeated. "Oh no, you misunderstand me. I don't get paid to do this, I just enjoy it. I inherited this house from my father, along with enough money to keep me set for life. So I don't actually have a job at all."

"Oh," Gon responded, his smile returning full force. "It's good to do things that you love."

"I think so, too," the man agreed.

Haku liked this boy; he was innocent and happy and sweet. It had been quite some time since he had encountered someone so optimistic and enthused to hear about his hobby.

"How about instead of just trying to explain what I do, I show you after lunch how the equipment works?" he suggested.

"Yeah!" the island boy agreed, though he drew back slightly after. He turned to Misaki and added, "Um, unless we have stuff to do…"

The girl swallowed the remainder of the food in her mouth before responding, "That would be fine."

"Really?" Gon cried excitedly.

"So much for 'responsibilities first'," Killua mocked, glaring at her over his dish.

He had been silently observing the conversation up to now, but he could hardly resist calling out their "guide" on her hypocrisy.

Misaki lazily cocked an eyebrow at him.

"You don't quite understand," she retorted, "this _is_ part of the mission."

* * *

**A/N:** **I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank those of you, however few (haha), who are reading this. The "story arc" of sorts will soon be starting up after this point, so I hope I do not horribly disappoint you! *grovels***


	9. Chapter Eight: Nature's Crisis?

Having recently been told that Haku's hobby tied directly in to the mission that Satotz had intended for the pair to assist in, Killua was especially alert upon entering the "lab". His ears were perked and his eyes scanning the instruments surrounding him for intricate details. Such was quite a feat since the room was no exception to the tight layout present throughout the rest of the household, and it appeared almost unfathomably cluttered with papers, computers and other similar electronics and apparatuses.

Misaki, on the other hand, was simply relieved that Haku was so willing to oblige her even after more than a handful of years since he'd required her services and the contract between them had reached its official point of closure. Under the circumstances, the location of his residence and the nature of his pastime were dually convenient to her as far as fabricating a task for the boys to partake in.

Perhaps with a decent lie folding itself neatly on her side, she would be capable of focusing more specifically on her own job. She had taken immediate note of Gon's compliance toward Haku, even knowing nothing about him as a person. This was slightly alarming, and she supposed it was only a matter of time before such a personality trait would thrust him in to harm's way; probably along with Killua…

However the two had not yet encountered anyone terribly dangerous, other than herself perhaps. The bandits could have been considered an enemy, though not life-threatening. Haku (while hiding a dark secret behind his "intellectually great, socially awkward, but sweet" demeanor), was not particularly a threat to them personally.

A voice snatched the woman roughly from her musings.

"These measure earthquakes?" Killua asked quietly, squatting down to level his eyes with the dials on one of the many machines crammed in to the space.

"Well, yes and no," Haku responded. "Some of these devices are built to measure the seismic waves of an earthquake. Take this one for example…"

The group shimmied awkwardly about, nearly shoulder to shoulder, in order to accommodate the man as he advanced toward a machine in the far corner next to a dust-covered computer monitor.

"The vibrations from the earthquake- the seismic waves- cause this needle to move, and it draws lines like this on the surface," he explained, pointing to many wildly scribbled lines. "This tells me the intensity of the quake by how close together or far apart the lines are to each other. Then I use the Richter scale to compare the lines to determine what the magnitude was."

Killua parted his lips to pose a question, but Gon spoke first, so he held his tongue momentarily.

"The Richter scale?"

"Oh, the Richter scale is a numbered system to mark the intensity of the earthquake. The higher the number, the more serious the earthquake is. For example, a two might be felt by select few people, but won't actually cause damage, while a seven would probably cause building collapses."

"If your machine runs on vibrations, how would it know the difference between a real earthquake and something like a large truck going by?" Killua finally asked with his arms crossed.

Haku smiled.

"Clever boy!" he praised, clapping his hands together once. "You're right, the scale does need to be embedded in the rock away from false readings like that to receive an accurate result… and in fact, mine _are_."

The boys glanced around the room at the many devices and then stared back at their host, confused.

"You see, that is my nen ability," he whispered, and a small black contraption appeared in his open palm. "When this gadget is attached to a location, I can create a connection to my machines so as soon as the earthquakes happen, the information transfers in real time directly to the seismograph that corresponds to it."

"In that case, why do you need so many of these?" Killua questioned. "Couldn't you get the same results using just one?"

"That's my limitation, I suppose," the man replied as the little collection of conjured wires vanished. "For each spot I mark, I need a separate machine. I admit it's a bit of a squeeze to fit them all, but it's all worth it for the greater good!"

Killua could hardly understand the logic behind the statement, although Gon seemed genuinely interested. The dark haired boy gently grasped a section of a long trail of parchment hanging from one of the mechanisms and studied it curiously.

"These lines are _really_ close together," the boy announced, pointing at the spot he had been referring to. "So that means this was a pretty bad earthquake, right?"

Haku sighed, not even bothering to inspect the scroll.

"Yes, that is what has me stumped these days," he said with a frown. "The earthquakes in that reading are from an area that used to have constant quakes over a hundred years ago, but they stopped around the time the volcano there became inactive."

"So are you saying that the volcano is active again?" Killua guessed.

"Well, that alone wouldn't be much proof, but during the last eleven months there have been three similar situations to this one. Finally some government hired officials went out to determine whether or not these volcanoes were active again, and the result was negative. However, recently I've found readings like this from two more locations. If it's honestly a coincidence, it's a big one."

"Are any of these volcanoes here on the islands?" Killua asked firmly.

"One of them is," Haku answered.

"Take us there," Misaki commanded, and her sudden reunion to the conversation drew everyone's eyes to her as though they'd only just remembered her presence there.

"Right _now_?" the man asked in disbelief, using his index finger to push his glasses back up in front of his eyes.

"Right now," she repeated.

"There are dangers…" he began, and then halted abruptly. He cleared his throat, and then added, "The quakes are becoming more regular and there's a chance that approaching the source could have devastating effects!"

"Meaning…?" Killua questioned in a bored tone.

"He means that there's a possibility we could die if one starts up while we're climbing the volcano," Misaki clarified rather indifferently as she hiked up her left boot to tighten the bright laces. She turned to face Haku again before asking, "I'm assuming that if those volcanoes _are_ active again, there will be consequences other than just earthquakes?"

"Well, yes," Haku agreed cautiously, "but we can only assume what they are. On these islands at least, there have been increased signs of possible mass eruptions from the volcanoes that were already active."

"That's reason enough to investigate," she insisted, strutting toward the door. She raised an eyebrow to Killua. "Are you game?"

The ex assassin turned to Gon, who nodded dutifully back to him.

"We're game," Killua replied.

"Do try not to get yourselves killed," Misaki warned them casually.

Trying his hardest to conceal his anger, the blue eyed boy scoffed, "Don't worry about us, _old lady_. Just try not to break a nail!"

The girl raised her chin ever so slightly, an amused pout playing on her lips.

With that, the group filed out in a less than orderly fashion, Haku in the lead, as they headed toward the recently active volcano in the east.

* * *

**A/N: I seriously hope that the earthquake discussion wasn't boring you to death, but it will have its purpose! From here the adventure begins! (Sorry it took 9 chapters to do so...). Also, thanks to Ria D'Arcy for reviewing, and also to everyone folllowing! :D I hope I can meet your expectations!**


	10. Chapter Nine: Tanzanite

Twenty odd minutes of walking found the group at the base of the Tanzanite Volcano, which was located in alarming proximity to the city considering the possibility of eruption looming inside it. It was almost wider than it was tall, with a seemingly gargantuan crater that dipped low across the diameter. For the most part, Tanzanite's outer shell appeared discouragingly smooth, with little option as to where one might actually be able to plant their feet without the risk of slipping down its length to their doom.

"Well, this is it," Haku announced uncomfortably as he ran his hand awkwardly through his thick, short, black hair.

"Climbing this manually will be impossible," Killua assessed as his eyes continued to trace hypothetical trails up the side.

"There's got to be a way," Gon insisted, clenching his little hands into fists in determination.

"Rope," Misaki commanded suddenly.

Her hooked umbrella handle was clasped in her left hand, though the parasol itself was closed and pointed down. The boys looked on curiously as they noticed that her right hand was extended toward Haku, to whom she must have uttered the order to, despite her eyes avoiding him momentarily. Haku stared at the girl a moment before sighing.

"You're not giving me a choice, are you?" he asked miserably.

"Rope," she repeated with only mild conviction, her hand still hovering before him.

"I'm not going up there with you," Haku warned.

He reached into his back pocket and retrieved an unbelievable amount of thick, woven rope considering the space it would have needed to be contained in. The boys' eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at the sight.

"Thanks," Misaki said as she received the large coil of rope in her palm.

"How did you do that?" Gon finally gasped out to the man.

"Oh, um… I… inherited it from my father," Haku responded, shifting and twitching with obvious unease.

"You inherited the ability to keep an impossible amount of rope in your pants pockets?" Killua stated, clearly unconvinced.

Haku nodded, but his hands were trembling vigorously.

"There's no time for this right now," Misaki interjected.

Stepping back on her right foot, she swung a generously sized section of rope in rapidly accelerating circles at her side, the slack end running through her opposite hand. The umbrella was fastened securely at the rotating end by a multitude of crafted knots. She released her grasp once the momentum had reached a desirable point, launching the umbrella and the line attached to it upwards the volcano. As it began its descent, the parasol suddenly opened and the wires of the spine spiked in to a narrow ledge.

"Hope you two are in good shape," she said somewhat condescendingly as she tugged at the base of the cord a few times to ensure that it was successfully anchored.

Before Killua could mention that he had been in top physical shape since he was old enough to walk, Gon rushed forward and grasped the line in both hands. Without a word, he heaved himself up the line, using his feet to assist his ascension.

"Ladies first," Misaki teased as she gestured to Killua.

The former assassin shot her an intense glare before he finally approached the swaying end of the rope and clutched it in a tight fist. With his temporarily unoccupied hand, he pointed a finger of warning mere inches from her face.

"I'm on to you," he snapped, and then proceeded to follow Gon in both action and method up the volcano.

Misaki smiled once she was certain that neither boy was free to notice her doing so. Perhaps it was her occult fondness for his eldest brother which fueled it, but she quite appreciated Killua's determinedly stubborn nature, especially when it came to her personally.

'_If only you knew…_' she thought as she gripped the rope, climbing it vertically without the aid of her feet against the rock…

* * *

"That was hard!" Gon whined as he collapsed on to his back once he'd completed the fourth stretch of climbing, miles upon miles from their original starting point.

Killua joined him on the ledge, which was slightly larger than the others they'd encountered up to now. He sat with his back propped up against the volcano as his profusely sweating friend panted and fought to steady his breath. The heat of the late afternoon was almost unbearable now and in truth, the blue eyed boy's limbs were also feeling moderately fatigued, but he disliked showing weakness- particularly in front of someone he did not trust with such information…

'_Speak of the devil…_' Killua thought sourly as Misaki joined them, retrieving her umbrella from its fixed position.

"You're not tired _already_?" she asked with apparent surprise in her voice.

"Just… five…more… minutes…" Gon begged between breaths.

"Five and _only_ five," Misaski obliged in an authoritative tone.

"Hey," Killua said suddenly, gaining the immediate attention of the remaining two, "is it just me or does it look like Tanzanite is smoking?"

Misaki withdrew a few steps and craned her neck. She had to admit, from this angle it _did_ appear that there was a thin, discolored roll of steam-like emissions winding just off-center of the massive crater. She narrowed her eyes.

"I…smell something… funny," Gon announced, attempting to sniff the air despite his still slightly offset respiratory pattern.

"What does it smell like?" Killua asked, turning to face his comrade abruptly.

"Kind of like… boiling water, but not exactly," he explained, forcibly inhaling deeply. "It's like if water was burning."

"We're going back down," Misaki announced with a forced calm.

"Huh?" Gon asked.

"This volcano is going to erupt," Killua explained, catching on quickly.

"What?" the tanned boy exclaimed. "You mean it's going to explode lava?"

"It'll explode, alright," Misaki answered, "but it won't be lava."

"What's going to happen?" he persisted.

"That's steam," she said, pointing above the apex, "and it's growing fast. It'll probably explode poison gases and we'll suffocate. That's if we don't get killed by volcanic bombs first."

"We'll be safe if we get back to the city then?" Killua questioned, deciding to save his curiosity as to how Misaki knew all this for a better time.

"Not likely. The gases might take a while to spread, but they'll eventually reach the city, too."

"…But then everyone will die!" Gon cried out.

"Not before us they won't if we don't get moving," the girl insisted.

She advanced toward the edge of the small plateau, parasol open.

"Grab on if you value your lives," Misaki warned.

Gon wasted no time in clutching on to the available space on the handle, but Killua seemed hesitant.

"Come on, Killua!" Gon urged.

"There isn't room," he argued, eyeing the occupied handle.

The earth began to rumble slightly, though seconds later it calmed considerably despite the steam above Tanzanite increasing noticeably.

"For heaven's sake!" Misaki growled.

She slipped her free arm around Killua's waist and drew him in firmly against her body.

"Wha-" he attempted to protest with burning, crimson cheeks.

Before he had a chance to complete the sentiment, Misaki pushed off and the umbrella expanded much the way it had during the initial fight with the bandits. The three gracefully began to sail downwards, as if the parasol were actually more of a parachute.

"Wow, amazing!" Gon chirped as he enjoyed the scenery below slowly coming back in to focus the nearer they came.

Killua however, was silent now. His limbs were awkwardly dangling mid-air, as he wasn't quite certain what he ought to do with them while Misaki continued to press him against her. Rather than take in the lovely view that Gon was currently fascinated with, he was forced to, more or less, stare at the plum haired girl who held him so fixedly.

He secretly hoped with all of his collected willpower that she did not notice his body's involuntary reaction to the friction she was inadvertently providing against it. The mere thought of such was horrifying to him even on the best of terms, but in a situation with _this _wretched girl on the opposing end, it was nearly enough to kill him with the sheer embarrassment of it! He practically despised his body for forsaking him this way…

Killua lowered his overwhelmingly flushed face, tilting slightly away from Misaki as he squeezed his eyelids shut and simply prayed that they would reach the base of the volcano sooner rather than later for more than one reason now…

* * *

**A/N:**** Thanks to Nanako for commenting, and again to Ria D'Arcy :) **


	11. Chapter Ten: Haku Foiled

"I didn't need you to do that," Killua insisted firmly once he'd managed to will away his lower body's unfortunate reaction to the friction.

After what had created the impression of a lifetime, the trio eventually landed with their feet planted firmly on the rocky ground at Tanzanite's base. The rumbling that had occurred earlier appeared far more persistent now, and the aforementioned steam hovering atop the crater now resembled many swirling rolls of puffy, off-white cloud.

Misaki spun to face the young boy, her brows freezing mid-knit and dispersing back to their original positions. She studied him for a moment, eyeing the solid pink of the apples of his cheeks, and thrust her umbrella back in its' carrying sling with a single, fluent stabbing motion. Apparently she'd caused him great discomfort, she realized, though alternately she _had_ potentially saved his life.

"Should I have left you to die?"

"I could have figured something out myself," he mumbled, although the usual conviction in his words was faltering notably and his eyes were orbited away from her.

"Next time I can leave you on the volcano, if that is your wish," she offered as a sarcastic compromise, despite her deadpan tone.

It was not true, of course. She hadn't a death wish, which she knew would be the case if she permitted Illumi's brother to die under her watch. Besides, even without her contract acting as constant background noise in her mind, she did quite like Killua on a personal as well. He sort of reminded her of…

"We should warn the people about the volcano," Gon called out just then, interrupting the girl's thoughts.

Misaki ignored the statement and swiftly marched in a dutiful manner toward the city without a word spoken. No, that was not priority now. There was a score to settle…

* * *

"Misaki-san…" Gon said, shocked at the scene before him.

The pair had followed Misaki back to Haku's residence, and lieu of knocking the girl had forcefully slammed the bottom her brown hiking boot against the wood. The door splintered and was tossed uselessly from its hinges, making rough contact against the far wall of the first room and denting it permanently.

'_Ko…_' both boys recognized simultaneously.

Haku, who was sitting in an easy-chair investigating the stack of parchment in his lap, immediately leapt from his seat and attempted to escape from the room. Misaki, who apparently had anticipated this, reached for the small end table and hurled it toward him. The legs of the table tangled with the legs of the man and he collapsed gracelessly forth on to the floor; his thick rimmed glasses skidding away from him with the sheer momentum of his fall. He let out an involuntary, stunned sort of grunt from the impact.

Weighting his body with her boot on the small of his back, Misaki commanded, "Talk."

Haku coughed slightly from the pressure on his lungs. The plum haired girl retrieved her umbrella and pointed the tip at the back of his neck; just enough to barely touch the skin, which now streamed a small trail of fresh blood as though a recently sharpened blade was the weapon used instead.

"I-I'm so g-glad to s-see that y-you made it b-b-back," he stammered, his entire frame trembling as he failed to feign compassion.

"You knew!" Killua suddenly realized, and when Gon shot him a half confused expression he explained, "He _knew_ the volcano was going to erupt."

"Haku-san," Gon said in surprise, "is that true?"

"It's true," Misaki answered for him, holding her pose without a hint of remorse. "Now I think we deserve to know why. Your choice is simple: talk or die."

Haku's eyes widened. His bottom lip quivered. Indeed he was aware that there was no negotiating with Misaki. She had (after all) completed a gruesome contract for him during her adolescence, and there was no doubt in his mind that she was both serious and capable of carrying through her threat.

He released an unsteady breath before he replied in a strained voice, "If you use _Gyo_ and look at Gon's back, you'll see why..."

Killua followed the instructions, and to his surprise a black device Haku identical to the one he had conjured earlier to transfer seismic waves to his machines became clearly visible. He plucked it from his comrade's clothing and inspected it in his fingers before tossing it violently across the room.

"You wanted us to die so you could measure the magnitude of the earthquakes on Tanzanite?" Killua questioned incredulously.

Misaki's muscles stiffened.

"Still selfish, Haku-san," she remarked coldly.

"It was the only possible way to save the city!" he cried out, tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

He sighed, hiccuping halfway through.

"Since the government officials claimed that Tanzanite was not active, everyone was quick to dismiss the possibility of it posing any real threat. I was not convinced so easily. After extensive tracking of earthquakes from the obviously active volcanoes on the islands compared to the ones actually reaching the city, it became clear that Tanzanite had to be causing a large supply of them."

"Did you tell the people about it?" Gon asked.

"I tried, but no one would listen. I wanted to prove it by attaching a seismograph directly to Tanzanite so that I could extract current and accurate readings to show the people, but…" He paused, burying his face in the back of his arms before he squeaked out, "…I was afraid to go up there myself."

"So you thought you'd sacrifice us," Killua scoffed, severely unimpressed.

"I'm sorry!" Haku sobbed.

"Haku-san…" Gon whispered sympathetically as he rushed to retrieve the glasses that were out of the man's reach.

"Gon-kun…" Haku said, in shock of the boy's continual kindness as he was gently passed his spectacles. "I've made such a mess, and at the expense of your lives…"

"There's no time for long apologies," Misaki interjected, releasing the bawling man from all restraint. "There's no reason for the people to brush you off now."

"She's right," Killua agreed. "Tanzanite is steaming so much that you can even see it from here. I'm sure people have started to notice it by now."

"It might be too late, in that case," Haku murmured woefully.

"What do you mean?" Misaki asked.

"By the time we warn the people and even just figure out a way to get them to safety, the eruption might already happen and the gases will be on their way."

"Will it be safe on the next island?" Gon questioned, his eyes determined and focused.

"The next _main_ island, I would think so," Haku explained, "but all of the _minor_ islands around here are also in danger."

"We can't warn four islands worth of people in time to save lives," Misaki announced after tapping her fingers consecutively against her thumb as she counted the total of minor islands surrounding them.

"We have to at least try!" Gon argued.

"There aren't even enough available boats to escape on," the man continued sadly. "We'd probably just get everyone in to a panic and then half of them would still have to die."

"That's if they're not already in a panic," Killua mentioned. "They can definitely see that something is up by now."

"Hey, Haku-san?" the tanned boy began curiously. "If it's too late to save people when the volcano is going to erupt, how would us going up there and dying in the eruption have done anything to help you in time?"

Both Killua and Misaki exchanged glances that seemed to cross-communicate the same thought.

"You weren't ever trying to save people," the former assassin accused, glaring daggers at Haku.

"Who _are_ you trying to prove all this to?" the amber eyed woman questioned dangerously.

Haku sighed, covering his face with his hands.

"Okay! You're right," he confessed, "my intention was not to rescue the populace of the island, but to impress the government's official league of scientists enough to gain a place in their cabinet."

The plum haired girl's eyes burned, and she aimed the enhanced tip of her parasol at the man's larynx. Her shoulders were square and high and confident.

"Still _selfish_, Haku-san," she repeated, her voice this time opaque and dark while her aura was noticeably tainted with a flood of blood lust.

"What's all that noise?" Killua suddenly interrupted.

"Look!" Gon called to the group from the empty front door frame, his index finger extended.

The city was nearly in a state of absolute chaos. The sky had become ominous and black, and the cloud-like rolls above Tanzanite in the near distance were so defined that they almost appeared painted on. Masses of people scurried about here and there, most with no actual destination in mind. The available boats and ships alike were becoming overwhelmed with people, some taking the liberty to toss others from the decks in order to fit on board themselves.

"This is horrible," Gon whispered.

"Mass hysteria," Haku muttered under his breath.

"New plan," announced Misaki. "Looks like people are already looting, so we're on the hunt for umbrellas. Got that?"

"Umbrellas?" Killua repeated distastefully.

"What about all the people?" Gon asked hopefully.

"It's too late for them," the girl insisted firmly. "If you want to survive, loot some umbrellas."

"…But-"

"I know a store that sells them," Haku piped up.

"You should be grateful to be alive at all right now," Misaki hissed. "For now you are our prisoner."

She pivoted to face Killua, who held her gaze.

"Can I trust you to guard the prisoner?"

With a satisfied smirk, he replied (using his thumb to gesture to himself), "Don't worry about me, old lady; you just focus on your little 'umbrella looting' scheme and leave the tough stuff to the professional."

Contrary to her previously somber nature and controlled behaviors in front of the boys, she grinned with a clearly bemused gleam in her eye. Too unexpectedly swift for him to avoid it, Misaki darted her hand out and playfully ruffled Killua's silvery hair.

"Hey, cut it out!" he shouted too late, his face hot and reddened in the aftermath.

"Wait for us at the docks, Kil'," she instructed, pointing toward the body of water she was referring to. "Let's go, Gon."

The island boy nodded, but his expression was uneasy and bothered as he followed Misaki through the wave of hysteric people.

In a quick moment of silence, with the world rushing noisily around him, Killua lifted his hand to his hair and ran his fingers through slowly. He then looked from his palm to his 'prisoner' before the two headed toward their own given destination, the blue eyed boy feeling discontented and far too aware of the awkward burning in the flesh of his cheeks.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks again to Ria and Nanako, and to everyone reading :)**


	12. Chapter Eleven: Separation

As consciousness slowly returned to Misaki, she was fairly startled to realize that she couldn't recall actually having fallen asleep. Nonetheless she forced herself to hold her current position flawlessly, which as far as she could piece together through closed lids was on her back and upon a sandy surface with lips slightly parted. The daylight flickered from beyond the shelter of the self-imposed darkness, and she understood that she must be partially shaded. Multiple loose strands of hair tickled her neck and forehead in the breeze, having obviously abandoned their posts in her previous up-do. The bulk of her thick, purple hair had lowered to the nape of her neck; cool, stale and damp with salted water.

She attempted to allow her senses to take reign in order to pick up on whether she was in the company of another or completely segregated, but without the use of her _En_ it was a difficult task. The use of nen in a situation that could have easily unveiled an enemy awaiting reaction from her vital signs would certainly encourage an undefended attack her way if she risked it.

'_I feel completely drained,_' Misaki noted. '_I bet I couldn't use my En even if I wanted to right now…_'

"Oh, you're awake," Killua's unenthused voice greeted her.

She rolled her head lazily in the direction of the voice and then opened her eyes to see the silver haired boy perched on a large, orange-red boulder with his elbows propped on his knees. In his hands was her original grey and black parasol, and his blue eyes were inspecting it tediously.

'_He's good to know that I was faking_,' she acknowledged inwardly. '_Many professionals have been completely fooled this way before._'

"It's just an umbrella," she explained to him upon recognizing the suspicion in his face as he continued to spin the closed 'weapon' in repeated circles through his palms.

"I know that," he argued back lightly. "I was just thinking about what your nen type is. I assumed manipulator at first, but if that were true then there's no way you could have done what you did."

'_What I did…_'

"Are we alone here?" she questioned, hoisting herself in to a sitting position.

Her head throbbed terribly, and as she eased a cool hand to her temple in an attempt to sooth the ache, her vision became littered temporarily with black orbs.

"Gon…" his voice started, wavering slightly with discontent at the spoken name before he paused.

_'Ah yes, that's right,'_ she mused between the pulsing in her head, '_Gon pulled that foolish move back there…_'

* * *

"This plan is ridiculous," Killua grumbled.

Misaki (following the task of enhancing the size of her own umbrella drastically and flipping it upside down about knee deep in the massive body of water), climbed aboard the make-shift "raft". She extended a confident hand toward the trio of boys upon the shore of the beach, although all three hesitated for a good half minute before Gon finally accepted her invitation. His grasp was far less firm than she had imagined it would be, although she supposed his obvious dismay towards both the looting and the fate of the people he clearly desired to save were the cause of it.

'_An admirable trait, except when it isn't_,' Misaki pondered regarding the young boy. '_It seems sometimes that he's so community-minded that it's actually a bit selfish in the long run. Should we die when there is no hope to save the others? Would he still risk his own life for an impossible outcome? Would he perhaps risk Killua's?_'

"Southeast wind," she announced, storing her questions for future reference. "We're in luck."

Ignoring the reluctant faces surrounding her, the girl handed each boy a separate, colorful parasol.

"Are we sailing?" Gon questioned, despite his words sounding fairly distracted.

Nodding, she responded, "Exactly that. I'm going to increase the size of these, and we'll need to allow the wind to catch them. Since all the boats leaving the island are already overfilled, this is our only chance."

"The wind can change directions suddenly," Killua argued. "This plan has a high chance of failing before we get to another island."

"It's a gamble," she agreed casually, "but we don't have much choice otherwise. Risk death this way or ensure it by sticking around here."

The former assassin's eyes scanned over the masses of people on the shore and the silhouettes rushing wildly through the streets of the city. Tanzanite's apex was very nearly fully engulfed by the billowy collection of smoking cloud. Had the eruption happened already?

"How long to the next island?" the silver haired boy asked.

"If everything works in our favor, it would probably take approximately four hours traveling this way, assuming we were moving at a decently paced, constant speed," Haku explained quietly.

"Four hours, and that's if nothing goes wrong," Killua murmured. "Are you able to use your nen like that for so long?"

"We're about to find out," Misaki replied. Once again disregarding the hesitant glances around her, she added while pointing delicately with her index finger, "Open your umbrellas so that the top faces that direction, and we'll be on our way."

* * *

"They might not have washed up on the same island as we did," Killua announced in a voice that revealed how desperately he hoped that his words were false.

"I suppose as long as they weren't carried back to the one we left…" Misaki mused aloud.

Apparently this was the absolute worst train of thought she could have vocalized, as Killua immediately spun on his heel and rushed back to the shoreline. In one swift movement, he removed his shirt and performed some common warm up stretches with his feet wading in the shallow water that lapped over the sand.

"What are you doing?" she asked rather calmly.

"Going to look for Gon," he insisted stubbornly.

"You're going to swim aimlessly around in the ocean until you find him?" she questioned back doubtfully.

"Gon would be willing to do it for me," he snapped determinedly, dismissing her argument.

"I can't allow you to essentially commit suicide in front of me," she vowed in a deadpan voice, approaching him from behind.

"I don't need your permission," he muttered under his breath.

"I thought you were the rational one," Misaki said neutrally. "You must know that the ocean is gigantic and that you have a better chance of collapsing and drowning from exhaustion than actually finding him this way. I'm sure you know that it makes far more sense to stake out here for a few days until I recuperate enough to use my nen again in order to search more safely."

With exceedingly cold eyes that appeared to suppress the true melancholy behind them, Killua glared over his shoulder and hissed, "Using your nen to get across the water was the same idea that got us separated in the first place."

'_No,_' Misaki disagreed secretly, '_it was_ _Gon's foolish actions that separated you from one another, not mine…_'

* * *

"The wind is definitely changing directions," Gon confirmed following about sixty minutes of sailing.

The sight of land had vanished to nothing over the course of the trip, and the waves were growing in size and intensity. The sky was darkening rapidly, occasionally flickering with white zigzags in the near distance and echoing softly with thunder.

Misaki pinched the inside of her bottom lip between her teeth in apprehension. If water were to fill the "boat", either by rain or by large sweeping waves, it was likely the umbrella would exhaust its usefulness and sink. She supposed she could attempt to use the parasols as floatation devices of sorts when turned right-side-up in the water, although there were issues with this plan, too. The girl had, up to now, used her nen to expand the umbrella that the group was currently borrowing as a raft, as well as reinforcing the four distributed in their hands in order to strengthen the durability and increase the dimensions for use as effective sails. This of course required an extreme amount of focus and aura, which was draining on both the mind and body.

'_Would I be able to use so many umbrellas as life preservers, or support so much weight for more than a few hours before I collapse?_' she wondered uneasily as she eyed the charcoal shaded clouds hot on their trail.

The answer, she soon discovered, was not to her preference. The water quickly seemed to rage and thrash madly about, rocking the largest parasol to and fro as the storm above caught up to their coordinates. As the rain forcefully injected itself in to the situation, it became a challenge to see beyond the borders of the engorged umbrella spine.

"Grab the handle!" Misaki commanded, and both Gon and Killua abandoned their own parasols to obey.

Haku however, was not quite so fortunate. As the "boat" surrendered to a particularly cruel wave and swung upside down, the man had not yet secured his grip and was sent tumbling and struggling amongst the relentless flood of water.

"I can't swim!" he managed to gurgle out between air and liquid.

"Haku-san!" Gon cried out once the remaining two joined him at the surface with the edge of the bobbing umbrella clasped in their fists.

"It's too late for him!" Misaki insisted.

Gon flashed an expression her way that made his following actions far less unpredictable. His eyes gleamed with an unbreakable hope and passion before he released his grip and fought the storm in order to swim toward a drowning Haku. The man's glasses had drifted away from him in the meantime, though his broken cries for help could be heard in part through the commotion of the thunder and violently rushing water.

"Gon!" Killua called after him.

In an instant, Gon and Haku were swallowed by a collapsing wall of liquid blue. The final boy positioned himself as if to kick off and launch his body from the floating parasol.

"Killua!" Misaki shrieked after him.

The plum haired girl snatched his ankle in her hand, disallowing him from following through with his obvious intentions to dive after his friend. The results were vigorously flailing limbs and additional surges of energetically splashing water. In her mind, Misaki could see nothing beyond her mission now. Illumi's face lingered just out of reach in her head, and the possibility of his younger brother's demise under her care was both startling and unacceptable. She could not allow him to do this thing, to throw himself so willingly in to death's embrace under the premise of saving the boy that she would very likely have to kill soon, anyway if he happened to survive.

"Let go!" the boy shouted furiously, but she refused.

Seeing no other options, Misaki separated from the self-powered flotation device in order to apply pressure to a partially exposed vein between Killua's neck and shoulder. At least if she rendered him unconscious, he would be inadequate to fight against her this way and she would be able to support his body until she found land. To her credit, she did manage this successfully. However, Killua was not one to accept restraint so easily, and as the girl grasped his pressure point through the waves, he simultaneously swung a firm karate chop across the nape of her neck. Her eyes resorted to displaying in double vision immediately from the unexpected impact.

Having used all her nen in the umbrella, the girl was virtually defenseless at the boy's retaliation. The world was rapidly blackening and her ears were ringing profusely.

'_Forgive me, Illumi_,' was her final thought before the world blurred and vanished, Killua's partially emerged, unconscious body just out of her reach as her head slipped below the line where air meets water and finally gave vent to her swoon.


	13. Chapter Twelve:Half Truths, Honest Lies

"I'm sorry that I have to detain you this way," Misaki explained in an indifferent tone that hardly seemed suitable for an apology, "though I did warn you that if you continued to behave so recklessly, I would be forced to defeat you."

Killua had only just opened his eyes to find himself fastened securely to a cross of sorts, probably a good two meters off the ground and composed entirely of broad sticks. His arms and legs were bound in an admittedly impressive hold through what appeared to be vines. The tying technique was difficult to decode and seemed genuinely challenging and well practiced. While he was almost certain that he could escape- having buckled _chains_ in the past- it was fair to say that as far as make-shift restraints went, these would not be simple to sever.

The sunset blinded him unless he kept his head tilted low, and so the boy settled on scanning the scene below him. A small fire was glowing nearby, contained within a circular perimeter of reasonably large rocks, and a single occupant sized lean-to (also comprised of sticks and vines) was built just beyond it. Immediately before the flames, seated upon a gigantic orange-red rock with her knees angled up into her arms and her ankles awkwardly crossed, was the purple haired woman. The embers danced in her amber eyes as she inspected him quietly, her expression relaxed and neutral and her lips a thin, horizontal line. Strands of her hair were messily scattered and absent from her high ponytail, and her exposed forearm displayed a large, freshly forming scab; still crimson and glossy at the wound site.

Now Killua remembered the scuffle that had rendered him unconscious for the second time by Misaki's hand. While attempting to dive back in to the ocean to search for Gon, the girl had once again hindered him by clutching on to his elbow and twisting him in to a firm hold that left his arms useless. Despite his sincere surprise at her resourcefulness and ability to imprison him so easily, he did manage to hook her knee just enough to send her tumbling forward on to his back.

During that one second leeway he had anticipated, he expertly timed his response and extracted his claw with enough momentum to catch her off guard and pierce the skin of her left forearm. The attack was not quite as successful as he had imagined, as Misaki had apparently been at least somewhat prepared for his onslaught and used her legs to roll her body to the side and receive only a shallow blow comparatively.

Nevertheless, she'd succeeded at once again taking advantage of a pressure point of his which left him helpless and slumbering.

"I wasn't even trying," he protested, frowning.

"Neither was I."

A light breeze served as a thankful distraction from the tension of the verbal exchange.

"You must be starving," Misaki said.

Uncertain as to whether the statement were some sort of poor torture lead-in, Killua replied, "I can go a long time without food, it doesn't bother me."

"Just the other day you argued that if you were hungry, you should eat right away," she pointed out.

"That was for Gon's sake," he muttered uncomfortably.

Speaking the name of his missing friend caused a tight, shrinking sensation in his chest that nearly overwhelmed the former assassin with emotion. As he swallowed, a persistent lump in his throat blocked the path of his saliva painfully. To keep himself from shedding the tears that threatened to reveal themselves in his eyes, Killua clenched his jaw firmly.

Whether or not the girl noticed his inner turmoil was unclear, but regardless she offered, "If you're hungry, I'll feed you. I've already cooked octopus."

In his grief, Killua had overlooked the savory aroma of heated seafood that lingered in the air. Now that he was aware of it, his stomach openly betrayed him and gurgled loudly. Misaki smirked every so slightly at the sound, though she refrained from any expected ridicule.

"You're going to feed me while I'm tied up here?" Killua asked, and his voice was undeniably startled as his cheeks tinted a mute pink at the thought.

The girl cocked an eyebrow.

"As you've said before, I'm not your mother," she answered as she positioned herself behind him.

She released a solitary knot on both the arm and leg restraints, and the remainder collapsed without further encouraging. Not quite foreseeing such a sudden and simple liberation, he dropped ungracefully to his knees, only marginally easing the impact of the fall with the palms of his hands against the beach.

"I'm taking a risk by allowing you to join me for your dinner like this," Misaki continued. "I do hope you won't disappoint me by attempting glorified, 'heroic suicide' again."

Killua shot her a dangerous glare as he took a chunk of meat in his hand channeled his irritation to bite in to it rather savagely. He seated himself on the aforementioned rock by the fire, and the girl joined him, her palms pressed against the warm side which faced the flames.

"Is it acceptable?" she asked, breaking the silence after he'd swallowed a few consecutive bites.

"Yeah, it's alright," he mumbled between mouthfuls, avoiding eye contact now.

"Why would you do something so stupid, anyway?" Misaki questioned.

Although his blood was boiling, Killua was quite sure that she didn't actually mean specifically to be offensive. He was beginning to understand this about her; that she was simply asking because she did not know. There was a similarity between them that he had not wished to acknowledge, and perhaps he still desired to block it out slightly, and this affinity ultimately relied on survival as the key.

Both attempted to logically approach situations and were willing to leave behind others if it appeared that there was no rational way for both themselves and the third parties to survive. When it came to a scenario in which it was simply one or the other, the answer was always to abandon the other. There were few to no qualms about killing an opponent, and deep rooted emotions were purposefully masked.

Gon was Killua's exception, however. Misaki could not comprehend this, and considering his past, the ex assassin did secretly at least partially sympathize with this. In the same instant, Misaki was clearly hiding something that he felt he had officially uncovered through this flood of woven thoughts.

"You're an assassin," Killua accused sternly, now boring his hard stare in to hers in lieu of responding to her question.

"Oh? What makes you think so?" she asked, seemingly unbothered by the allegation.

"Well," he began, his voice still authoritarian-dipped, "you know about pressure points that most people wouldn't, and you have no problems killing. Your footsteps are so quiet that I didn't even hear you in the forest in Berraudney when you were following us, and you would've had to be pretty close to jump out and block that attack. You separate yourself from the group and don't say anything personal about yourself at all. I'm thinking you're an assassin, and if I'm wrong you would have corrected me by now."

Misaki smiled.

"You're a sharp one," she said calmly. "I did used to have contracts for assassination before I took up Archaeological Hunting. I was a small scale Contract Hunter that did odd jobs here and there; lab assisting, building, beast hunting, body guarding, and occasionally playing 'arm candy' for some of the big wigs in the underground."

"Won't people be after you then?" Killua asked cautiously.

Misaki shrugged.

"I'm not an assassin anymore," she lied, "but I do tend to keep my guard up all the time."

Killua let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"I quit, too," he admitted quietly. "My whole family is nothing but assassins."

"Oh, then you're a Zoldyck?" Misaki asked, feigning surprise.

"Yeah," he mumbled, clearly unhappy about it. "What made _you_ decide to quit the business, anyway?"

The girl's amber eyes ran over the glowing embers for several moments before she responded.

"I just decided that Archaeological Hunting was more apt to my personal interests. What about you?"

"I just didn't want to anymore," he shrugged. "I didn't want to inherit the family business, so I ran away. I went back for a little while, but I'm glad that I left."

"I ran away from home once," Misaki admitted.

"Really?"

"Yeah," she confirmed. "I was about ten and my parents were hard off for money, so I ran away to find a job to help out. I figured I'd make lots of cash, and then come home and surprise them with it. It was pretty selfish, I guess. I didn't even stop to think that they might miss me."

"So were they upset about it then?"

"I don't know," she whispered, her eyes and voice softening drastically for the first time since encountering the boys, "I never saw them again after that."

Killua shifted awkwardly in his seat. Despite his curiosity, he was too uncomfortable to pry further in to the situation. After a moment Misaki turned and smiled at him.

"We should turn in. You can take the shelter, I made it with you in mind," she said indifferently, nodding toward the lean-to. Just as Killua stood, she added gently, "Hey, I know all families can be pushy and selfish sometimes, but try not to take them for granted. You never know what might happen tomorrow or the day after that."

She corrected her posture and mimed a "salute".

"…From one ex-assassin to another," she said in a slightly mock-dutiful tone.

In spite of himself, Killua smiled and nodded back to her, returning the salute lazily before crawling in to the small shelter for the evening. This left Misaki alone before the remnants of the fire pit, gazing dreamily in to the waves of smoke as she pondered the line that separated her honest lies from her half-truths.

A single, silent tear rolled down and off her cheek before she, too prepared for sleep.

* * *

**A/N: ****Thanks again to those reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting. :)**


	14. Chapter Thirteen: The 'Exciting' Beach

The persistent wave of indistinguishable group chatter woke Killua just after dawn. The boy cautiously crawled toward the edge of the lean-to and peered around the mass of bound sticks to find that the beach was absolutely saturated with people. His blue eyes nearly bulged out of his skull at the unexpected flood of tourists, some in bathing suits and _many_ others wearing nothing at all. The latter was almost enough to cause his instant, involuntary blush to spread through his entire body, and he struggled awkwardly to retreat completely back in to the shelter to escape the sight.

"Finally you're up," Misaki greeted him, a skewer lined with unfamiliar types of cooked fish and fresh pineapples in her hand.

"Wh-what are all these people d-doing here?" he asked so quickly that he occasionally stumbled on his own tongue.

"These are the Volcanic Islands, remember?" she replied while cocking her head slightly at him. "Tourists come here year-round on vacation."

"…But there wasn't even _one_ other person here last night!"

"They were probably in the city over there," Misaki explained while pointing eastward beyond the trees. "There's more than just one beach, too. There could have even been an event happening on another one."

When he finally graced her with eye contact, she shot him a small but noticeably wicked grin.

"We were lucky, though," she went on, "we washed up on the exciting beach."

"What's so exciting about it?" Killua asked doubtfully

"It's a nude beach, of course," Misaki said as though it were the most casual thing in the world.

She chuckled lightly as Killua lowered his face as though to hide his fire red cheeks.

"We have a lot to do today," she insisted seriously, "and there is a very strict dress code on this beach." Pointing at his shorts with her free hand, she commanded, "The pants; lose them."

With eyes so wide one could scarce see his eyelids, the silver haired boy shouted back, "I'm not walking around naked in front of a bunch of strangers!"

"Relax, I was joking," Misaki said calmly, holding up a defensive palm. She handed him the kebab and added, "Eat up. I meant it when I said there is a lot to get done today."

She turned to leave, but halted suddenly, laughing louder than she had ever done in his presence before.

"Don't flatter yourself," she giggled, "I wouldn't actually want to see a kid like you strutting around naked."

Lowering his brows, Killua growled, "Well I wouldn't want to see an old lady like you naked, either!"

Snapping to alert, Misaki tucked a loose strand of hair back in to her ponytail before using her index finger to indicate something seemingly dire in the distance. Caught up in the tension, Killua rushed forth to see what it was.

"You mean like _that_ old lady there?" she asked with mock-innocence just in time for the young boy to catch a glimpse of exactly what he wanted to see least.

"You're bad natured, Misaki," he grumbled with the _slightest_ amount of playfulness as he dived back in to the shelter with both eyes squeezed forcefully shut. "I'll get you back for that one!"

The sound of her snickering lessened and then faded in to the hustle of the crowd.

* * *

Seating herself on a large rock only a few meters from the site at which Killua still remained, Misaki withdrew her umbrella from the sling on her back. With her legs nearly fully extended, she lazily engraved curved lines in the sand with the closed parasol tip, drawing nothing in particular while she mused.

She wondered quite fervently whether it was especially appropriate to speak and behave so playfully with Illumi's younger brother, specifically while in the midst of a contract that was rather grim in nature. There was a strange part of her psyche that she had always managed to keep effectively locked away and often even separate from her conscious thoughts. This regarded her personal life and honest emotions, which had never threatened to bleed out and color her composure before.

Yet, here she was; in the company of Illumi's sibling and somehow willing to admit truths to him in between the carefully crafted lies. There was a persistent and irritating sense of betrayal somehow in the thought that perhaps Killua now knew more about her in such a short span of time than his elder brother did following twelve or so years of making her acquaintance. She supposed that this could be rooted in her typical lack of desire for human contact outside of work circumstances. Coupled with Illumi's own apparent wish for solitude and separation from developing personal connections beyond the most animalistic of motives, perhaps it did make sense after all...

Despite such a lengthy stretch of time having known Illumi, she admittedly did not truly yearn to know _about_ him. Spending the vast majority of her time solely in the company of her own thoughts, there was something wonderfully refreshing in the knowledge that there was someone so willing to share the pleasures of human touch with no strings attached.

'_Sins of the flesh are the most fun_,' she reasoned, smiling slyly at the collection of lines in the sand.

Still, was it wrong to feel a… _bond_, of sorts… with the _brother_ of the only person whom she actively sought out beyond the call of duty; the only human she'd previously shared any personal piece of herself with, even if it did not transcend her physical body?

Honestly, she did not know, but she had a pretty good guess as to what Illumi's response would be…

…though she supposed that she didn't much _care_ at the moment, at least.

* * *

**A/N:**** I know this one didn't have a lot of action or movement in it, but we'll be back to the plot next chapter, I swear it.**


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Search and Ambush

"That thing about waiting for you to recuperate so we could use your nen to search for Gon was a lie, wasn't it?" Killua accused, his expression somewhere in between anger and weariness. "You always planned on renting this boat, didn't you?"

Indeed the young boy was caught quite off guard when, following breakfast hour, Misaki ushered him to a small motor boat rental facility on the docks. Without even the slightest explanation of herself, she'd marched through the door and demanded a reasonably priced model (although her haggling skills left much to be desired, especially compared to someone like Leorio).

Now the two were already far enough from the shore that the mass of people on the beach looked more like a single, silhouetted blob in the distance.

"Yes, that's correct," she admitted with no trace of regret.

"Why did you lie about that?" he growled. "We could have left yesterday!"

"That's exactly why I lied," she explained with a shrug. "There was a pretty likely chance that you'd want to go back to check the island we left if you knew we could get there this quickly, and Tanzanite's gases would take a couple of days to stabilize. I wasn't going to let you kill yourself by trying to swim there, so why would I then lead you in to almost certain death?"

"You old hag!" he hissed, grinding his teeth and balling up his fists in frustration.

"Sit down and relax," she replied, her tone unmarked by worry. "We should be there in less than ten minutes at this rate."

* * *

Upon docking the boat, there was immediately a thick sensation of unease lingering in the air. The island was still and silent, which was perhaps uncharacteristic, although not nearly as odd as the fact that further inspection found the beaches and city completely desolate as far as any trace of another human.

This was not to say that the aftermath of both nature's wrath as well as the results of the former wave of human panic was absent. Stores were in a state of extreme disarray, with windows carelessly smashed and leaving the streets showered in a skin of tiny, glistening daggers and random stock items in poor shape. Many houses had tilted or even collapsed, likely as a consequence of the earthquakes that would have eventually found their way in to the community.

Yet, not a single body could be seen or traced. The dock was stark and barren of all ships, and even the small airport to the north was stripped of any and all aircrafts.

"Someone went through a lot of trouble to clean up, and quickly, too," Misaki mumbled once the two had completed a shallow run of the island.

"How could so many bodies be moved this fast?" Killua asked aloud. After a moment he whispered, "Nen?"

"Must be," she agreed. Scanning the quiet area around them with her eyes, she added solemnly, "Keep your guard up, Kil'. We're being watched, and I'll need you to be the muscle if anything happens."  
"You mean I'll have to fight alone then?" he asked in disbelief.

"I haven't fully recovered enough to trust the use of my nen in combat yet," she whispered. "That part wasn't entirely a lie, you know."

Truly this was a terrible hindrance to her, as she also was incapable of expanding her En in order to effectively trace where these specific presences were, and unfortunately for that to be the case they would almost definitely have to be using Zetsu. She was almost certain they were nen users, which served to intensify the potential danger of the situation tenfold.

* * *

'_Haku's glasses…?_' Misaki pondered as she lifted her boot to uncover the item which had made a sharp, crunching sound at the descent of her most recent footfall.

Dropping a single knee against the concrete to aid a closer inspection did reveal to her a pair of now severely cracked spectacles that, at the very least, did resemble those of Haku's quite strongly. The plum haired girl seized the thick, black frames in her fingers and turned them over as though doing so would somehow solve the mystery for her. If indeed the glasses belonged to Haku, there were questions and possibilities that plagued her.

Firstly was the scenario in which the spectacles had simply washed up on the shore. This would mean that someone had intentionally transported them from their original destination in to the city. The question of 'why' was imperative and seemingly unsolvable in this hypothetical situation.

Then there was the possibility that Haku himself had either reunited with his lenses either in the ocean or on the sand of the beach. In that case, Haku might be on the island now or at least _had _returned since the eruption. Still, this begged the answer as to what would persuade him to abandon his necessary medium to sight. Had he been ambushed?

Of course, there was the distinct probability that she was merely over thinking what easily could have passed for coincidence. Surely Haku was not the only one to wear this specific style of frame…

"Misaki, behind you!" Killua warned suddenly in an alarmed shout.

At the release of the very first syllable of his cautionary sentiment, Misaki had already initiated a reaction. Dropping the glasses in an instant and pushing off with her back foot, she rolled to the side and landed with her right palm against the street with her forward knee bent and her back leg balancing preemptively on the ball of her foot (as though prepared to launch her again at any moment). Although she was fortunate enough to (narrowly) escape the attack- namely a large, nen enhanced fist which left a massive, concave dip in the concrete- she had also used her previously injured left arm to absorb the weight of her maneuver. The scab was now oozing puss and blood once again, with the addition of glass shards embedded in the open wound. She winced lightly from the spark of pain.

"Damn, I missed," cursed a husky voice from within the cloud of dust which had risen as a result of the attack.

The debris thinned away to reveal a fairly slender man in a black suit and tie. His chestnut hair was slicked back in to an undivided spike that reached his shoulder blades. He retracted his knuckles from the shattered rock and held it up before him, his face upholding a grim expression.

"What is your purpose here?" Misaki asked firmly.

"You never should have come to this place," the man responded, withdrawing his hand in preparation for another advance toward the girl.

He swung viciously and once again the girl scarcely evaded.

"Where are all the people?" she questioned.

"Hold still," the man ordered as he robotically launched another punch.

There was less than an inch of separation between his knuckles and her body this time.

Killua at first was stunned that Misaki would be so openly foolish as to attempt a round of questions amidst these offensive strikes, although it suddenly occurred to him that this was indeed her intention. She was distracting him, particularly since she had earlier stated that her nen was not again battle-ready. The idea was for _him_ to take the lead during this time while the man ignored his presence and was predominantly focused on her. Determined to waste no more time, Killua transmuted his nen in to a fierce electric jolt and attached it to the unsuspecting assailant.

The man, who had concentrated his aura almost completely in to his fist, was conveniently left nearly defenseless. His muscles vibrated madly and continued to twitch even subsequent to falling on to the street in a scattered heap. Killua approached the body and stared in to its wide but nevertheless unconscious eyes before peering around himself thoroughly to detect whether there were any further opponents nearby.

"L.I.G.H.T.?" Misaki murmured, and a quick glance over revealed that her words were being read from a small business card that was now in her hands.

Immediately understanding that the man must have accidentally lost the rectangular piece of laminated paper at some point during the physical exchange, Killua rushed to her side and proceeded to join the girl in looking it over.

The first line revealed a bolded acronym (**L.I.G.H.T.**), and the one below it read "Reg. # 57". In tiny, colored print, there was a strange circle of many different world country flags (many of which neither Misaki nor Killua particularly recognized), and their purpose appeared to act as some sort of circumference for a symbol precisely like that which graced the Hunter's license.

"What is this?" Killua mused aloud.

Shaking her head, Misaki replied, "I've never heard of such a thing before, but clearly they are either responsible for what ever is happening here, or-"

"…They know who is," the blue eyed boy finished.

"Exactly," she conceded, her amber eyes running over the body at her feet. Pocketing the card, she insisted, "Let's go to Haku's place. Even if we don't find your friend, we might be able to find something useful among all those little trinkets of his."

Killua nodded determinedly, focusing in on his mission to find his friend as he hastily increased his pacing.

"Hurry," he commanded over his shoulder.

Misaki followed wordlessly, silently attempting to close off the valve to her flood of new thoughts in order to efficiently hone in on her real mission to ultimately assassinate the boy of whom they sought… if so he were found alive, that was**.**


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Reunion

The eerie stillness and quiet of the city, littered shamelessly with wreckage, was abruptly broken by a familiar, bellowing voice:

"Rock… paper… rock!"

"Gon!" Killua called out, rushing precisely west of his current position.

Followed closely by Misaki, the boy weaved his way through the clutter obstructing the streets and slipped between buildings until he reached a small clearing that revealed his comrade. It was obvious even from a distance that Gon's skin was shaded and patched with dirt, scrapes, and bruises of various sizes and degrees. The tanned boy was currently approaching an unconscious body on the opposite end of the lane, likely a result of having received a direct hit and ultimately being launched from their original position.

"As I thought, it's L.I.G.H.T. again," Haku told the boy (and upon advancing a few more steps the man came in to sight, hunched over the body with a business card placed directly before his straining eyes).

"Gon!" Killua shouted, perking up profusely.

The island boy's mood elevated quite suddenly once he turned his head to catch sight of his friend running toward him.

"Killua! We've looked all over for you!" he said with a strong wave of relief in his tone. As the boys firmly clasped opposite hands as an expression of their glee, he added, "I was worried you guys were hurt!"

"Not me," Killua grinned proudly, secretly holding back tears of joy.

"Oh, Misaki-san," Gon greeted the girl as his face contorted in to a gesture of genuine surprise. "What happened to your arm?"

"This and that," she replied with a shrug, glancing down at the puss and blood still oozing around the protruding fragments of glass.

Killua merely smirked at the response.

"There's a first aid kit at my place," Haku offered shyly, "if someone would be so kind as to help me _find_ my house…"

True to the sentiment, the man was indeed stripped of his spectacles and essentially blinded. He held out his arms and slowly rotated them about this way and that as though doing so would assist him in deciphering whether or not his path was clear.

"I'll help you, Haku-san," Gon volunteered, skipping over and taking his arm.

"Thank you, Gon-kun," Haku returned with a smile. Turning to the others (or at least where he assumed the others were), he said, "While we're there, we can tell you two what we've discovered in during your absence."

* * *

The boys sat opposite of Misaki at the dining table, which was fortunately still in almost immaculate condition considering the magnitude of the earthquakes that would have passed through previously. Upon it was a formidably sized first aid kit, opened and surrounded by antiseptic washes, ointments, and gauze. Her arm was positioned palm-down and width-wise before her as she performed treatment to the site of the lesion. Killua watched her technique with mild interest as the girl proceeded to use angled-tip tweezers to simply pluck the glass from her wound, while Gon seemed alternatively quite enthralled with the procedure.

"Doesn't that hurt?" he asked curiously, a slight sense of awe winding its way in to his words.

Fighting a wince as she wrenched a comparatively large shard from her flesh, she replied casually, "Of course."

A seemingly endless crash sounded from the next room, the sound of multiple items rolling and shifting about continuing on even long afterward.

"Is everything okay in there?" Misaki called out in a fairly uninterested tone.

"Y-Yes, I'm fine!" Haku answered amidst the echo of shuffling. After a brief moment of relative silence, he exclaimed, "Ah-ha!" before reappearing with a laptop case clasped in his hands.

Using his index finger to push the spare pair of glasses he'd retrieved back up the bridge of his nose, Haku simultaneously unzipped the case and then hastily placed the glossy, black, portable computer on to the table alongside the treatment supplies. A high-pitched squealing sound escaped his lips as he pressed his fingertip to the power button.

"There is still some battery left!" he cheered as he drew his excited fists against his chest.

"Weren't you going to tell us something?" Killua urged impatiently.

"Yes, of course," the man agreed quickly, clearing his throat. He nodded to Gon before continuing with, "Gon and I washed up on the main island south of this one. We'd always planned to come back here to search for you, but we had to wait until the gases had stabilized, of course. As soon as enough time passed, we rented a boat and hurried over, assuming that you would probably have the same idea.

"However, when we arrived we found that someone else was here, too. In fact, an entire group of people were here, all dressed in black suits, and they were in the middle of using some strange technique to remove the bodies from the streets. There were about five men pulling handkerchiefs out of their sleeves and expanding them probably one thousand times larger. Then they would throw the sheets over a group of deceased bodies and those bodies would vanish when the cloth reverted back to its original size.

"Naturally we tried to stay hidden in case these people were dangerous," he continued. "Gon-kun was worried that they might have already captured you two using the same technique."

"Pardon me," Misaki interrupted with the implication that she was not particularly apologetic for the intrusion, "but you say that you rented a boat to get here, too?"

"There weren't any boats around the island," Killua elaborated, realizing immediately what she was questioning.

"Of course you didn't see our boat," Haku replied with a frown.

"Yours is probably gone now, too," Gon agreed.

Killua and Misaki locked stares for a quick moment before the girl turned her attention back to the antiseptic she was presently free-pouring over her crimson and purple-yellow speckled flesh.

Haku continued, "Whoever these people are, they're pretty organized and they definitely were prepared for the eruption. I don't know why anybody would want to keep others away from the island, per se, but clearly they're here to clean up the mess and to fight off anyone that shows up in the meantime. It's perhaps some sort of conspiracy, though what there would be to gain from going through with all this, I haven't the slightest."

"L.I.G.H.T.," Killua whispered, touching a knuckle to his lips in thought.

"Yes, we found cards with that acronym on everyone that we fought," Haku confirmed with a nod. "Some of them spotted and came after us and when we defeated them all we found on their person besides the handkerchiefs were those cards." Withdrawing a handful of them from his pocket and tossing them on to the table, he explained, "The only variant from card to card seems to be the registration numbers."

"We?" Misaki asked with a cocked eyebrow as she smeared ointment across the back of her forearm.

"Huh?"

"You said 'everyone that _we_ fought'," she clarified. "Since when do you fight your own battles?"

Grunting mildly in frustration, Haku admitted, "Okay, everyone that _Gon_ fought. Are you quite happy now?"

"Tickled pink," she responded in a grave voice, her eyes fixated on the roll of gauze she was currently wrapping her wounded flesh in.

"Who would have something to gain from keeping the eruption a secret and erasing the evidence after?" Killua pondered aloud.

Slowly, all eyes magnetized to Haku.

"It's _not_ me!" the man insisted, folding his arms defiantly over his chest.

"Haku-san is not resourceful enough _or_ influential enough to have an entire network of lackeys pulling off something like this for him," Misaki agreed.

The man scowled darkly at his former hire.

"L.I.G.H.T.," Gon murmured to himself. "What does that mean?"

A thoughtful silence fell over the household during which the only sound that could be heard was the occasional tapping of Haku's keyboard. Eyes narrowed and fingertips rose to chins, but still no one could successfully decode the acronym.

"Eureka!" Haku screeched suddenly, causing the remainder of the table's occupants to jolt slightly.

"You figured out what L.I.G.H.T. stands for?" Gon asked excitedly.

"No," Haku dismissed him optimistically, hurriedly leaping from his seat to retrieve a small printer and cable from the adjoined room.

"Then what are you so excited about?" Killua questioned, annoyed with the interruption.

"It's much _better_ than that!" Haku grinned as he clicked madly about on his screen. With a gleam in his eye, he glanced up and proclaimed, "I just hacked a map to their headquarters!"

* * *

**A/N:**** Thank you for reading and reviewing! A "new" thanks to 2102032 for your recent wave of reviews :D**


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Travel and Disguise

Between the constant shifting of transportation methods and the occasional crossing of time zones, the group was trapped experiencing mild effects of jet lag. By the time they had transferred from boat to plane, and then finally from plane to airship, the four were officially prepared to settle in for a much deserved rest upon arrival.

"One thing doesn't make sense," Killua announced in secret to Misaki once Haku was sufficiently distracted by one of Gon's Whale Island stories. "If none of us have any idea what L.I.G.H.T. stands for, and all we can figure out about them is that they're secretive and have access to knowledge about the eruption that most people don't, how would it be possible for Haku to find their headquarters so easily? Would they really have information like that completely unprotected and so easy for just anyone to find?"

"I've considered that, too," she assured him, peering momentarily toward the rear of the airship where Haku was now laughing along with the young boy at his side. "He might not be _lying_, but you're right to question exactly how _truthful_ he's really being."

Killua sighed.

"…But then if what I said is true, how can we be sure that's even where he's really leading us?"

"We can't," Misaki replied in a nonchalant tone. "We'll just have to keep up our guard and assume that any step we take from here could be our last."

The boy's brows knitted and he cringed slightly at the statement, spoken with such a chilling calm and unmarred with real concern for the words. His entire posture had manipulated itself in to arching away from the purple haired girl now, shrunken in and obviously tainted with worry. She seemed to take notice of this, and the very corners of her lips slightly upturned at this reaction. With a sluggish extension of the arm, she captured a roll of his spine at the nape of his neck in between the pads of her first two fingers and thumb and massaged around it methodically. In spite of himself, Killua had not at all attempted to thwart her advance and even found his muscles relaxing generously at the curious application of touch.

"Don't welcome so much stress in to your body," she told him calmly. "It's a waste of your talents to let fear overtake your instincts. Stay sharp and you'll do just fine."

Without warning, the calculated kneading ceased.

"Oh, I nearly forgot," Misaki mumbled quietly as she reached deep in to a carefully concealed, inner pouch of the sling on her back and retrieved two cellular phones. Passing them to Killua, she explained, "Your phones' battery compartments were completely water logged, so I'd put them in a bowl of dry rice back at Haku's place. They should be working fine now."

Upon catching sight of his phone clutched in the girl's fingers, Killua's blue eyes widened as he immediately slammed his own palm firmly against his side pants pocket. Sure enough, the device was absent.

"How did you get that?" he hissed, feeling admittedly vulnerable.

Misaki shrugged and gently took the back of his hand in her soft palm and drew it away from him, simultaneously rotating the hand which held the phones over top of his until she had effectively sandwiched his flesh within hers. She retracted her hands slowly, tickling his skin with her fingertips. Instinctively, Killua then wrenched his arm back against his chest as he withdrew a defensive, sideways step, securely gripping the gadgets in his fingers with a scowl etched in to his facial features.

"It's a trick I learned when I was just a girl," Misaki explained with a wink as she strolled casually away from him to rejoin the other two.

Killua glanced from the cellular phones in his hands up to the plum haired girl and then back again. He smirked wryly at her before following suit and returning to his seat amongst the group.

* * *

"Kareko Village…" Gon read aloud from the wooden sign staked in to the permafrosted ground. "Haku-san, this is where L.I.G.H.T. headquarters is?"

"I'm quite certain," Haku responded.

Killua and Misaki exchanged muted glances behind him, arms folded before their chests. The two had made a point of remaining relatively silent during the nine mile hike at Haku's heels, merely observing and gathering information when at all possible. Unfortunately, neither had particularly discovered anything of importance.

Every now and then Misaki's thoughts drifted from her present situation back to that of her mission. Her eyes fixated on Gon's back, and she forced her itching muscles to remain stationary despite her incredible urge to complete the contract while the group walked along the virtually deserted path between societies. It should have been so simple, but for whatever reason her mind was insistent that she bide her time and analyze the boy at least for a bit longer. Not one to dismiss the validity of her instincts, she willingly obeyed.

"We shouldn't just walk right in, should we?" Gon asked slowly.

When Haku's reaction was little more than to awkwardly transfer positions and rock anxiously from toe to toe on the frosted grass, Misaki finally replied in a low whisper, "No. Instead we'll go back to the last town and plan our next move."

The consensus seemed to be favoring of the idea, and the four turned away from the dim lighting of Kareko Village and headed back toward the previous town of Redknife.

* * *

'_I can't believe this is all they had left!_'

Killua seethed at his reflection in the lighted bathroom mirror of his hotel suite, which displayed all too shamelessly the image of a very blonde, very feminine version of the ex assassin.

At the time of their return to Redknife, Misaki had suggested that each of them assume a disguise prior to entering Kareko Village. This would essentially prevent detection from any who might have access to an elite wealth of information, which she insisted would have likely been necessary in order for L.I.G.H.T. to execute such elaborate operations surrounding Tanzanite's eruption. Not willing to take the chance that perhaps the members of the organization might already be aware of their presences from back on the island during the "clean up", the vote was ultimately unanimous to follow through with this cautionary procedure.

Misaki explained that the most efficient manner in which to carry out this plan would be to splurge on half-decent costumes and wigs, and had graced both boys with a generous handful of Jenny with which to purchase a decent costume kit with.

Much to Killua's dismay, the only costume and wig duo sets that remained in his size and price range at the store were designed for females. The pink and cream cherry blossom dress had not been once removed from its hanger, left completely untouched as it hung in a painful, polyester reminder of his grave misfortune. He clutched a fistful of the elbow-length, blonde waves and pouted pitifully at himself.

"Killua, do you think you could help me tuck in my hai-," Gon called out as his footsteps advanced toward the bathroom. "Wow, is that a girl's wig?"

"It was all that they had left," he explained sourly, fighting the urge to simply wrench the synthetic collection of hairs from his head and toss them in to the garbage.

"Wow, that's really too bad," Gon said, attempting fruitlessly through his giggling to sound sympathetic.

"Are you laughing at me?" Killua asked incredulously.

"No! I mean, not on purpose," the tanned boy replied.

"That's it!"

Within moments, the room was filled with a collection of loud bantering and hysteric laughter, the two boys all the while wrestling around on the bathroom floor. Just as suddenly as this had begun, a new presence entered the room.

"Break it up!" Misaki's voice commanded as she emphatically clapped her hands together twice in a '_chop, chop' _rhythm.

The boys fell away from one another on to the tiled floor, Killua's wig now at a dramatically slanted angle that nearly revealed his actual hair on the right side. Misaki, who was currently frowning at the pair, was now dressed in a manufactured silk, solid turquoise kimono with black embellishments on the sleeves solely. Her wig was silvery, pin-straight, and long, reaching her waist before abruptly cutting off. Her face was framed by a small chunk of strands on either side which curved inward and only slightly surpassed the line of her jaw.

"Oh, is that a ladies' wig?" Misaki inquired as her eyes fell on the blonde contraption, a decent amount of surprise present in her voice.

Killua felt his face heat up at the question, which was far more humiliating somehow when asked by Misaki than it had been by Gon. He snatched the wig from his head and sloppily forced it down on to Gon's head, grasping the short, brunette mass of hair that the boy had dropped during the scuffle instead.

"It's Gon's!" Killua argued quickly in response.

"What?" Gon asked. "But you're the one that…"

"…Bought the boys' costume set," the blue eyed boy finished for him in a lame attempt to redirect the blame.

"Oh," Misaki said, her tone fairly enthusiastic compared to normal. "That was actually a great idea, Gon."

"It was?" both boys answered in unison.

"Of course," she replied. "No one would expect to find you disguised as a girl. That was a bit of a risqué move, but definitely a smart one."

Killua glared at the mass of blonde waves which covered his friend's eyes (as it was not at all applied correctly), uncertain as to why the girl's praise for his comrade irritated him so.

"Anyway, no more wasting precious energy tonight," she ordered gently, yawning lightly from behind her knuckles afterward. "We've done a lot of travelling this week, and we need to be at our best tomorrow. Get some sleep."

Killua's blood boiled as the girl added under her breath with a thoughtfully swaying index finger, "…Very clever idea, indeed," before exiting the suite.

* * *

**A/N:**** Thanks again for reading and for the reviews. Much appreciated!**


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Village and Flaws

"My name is Ai. I'm your elder sister that takes care of you since the car accident that killed our parents three years ago," Misaki announced firmly as the sign to Kareko Village came in to view. "Killua, your name is Riku. Gon is your twin sister, Rin. Our business in the village is to establish a nice, traditional home in which to raise you children."

"Is that a strong enough story to really convince them?" Killua skeptically asked as he attempted to side swipe the long, brunette bangs of his wig out of his eyes with his fingers.

"Kareko Village is generally old fashioned," Haku explained, flicking his fake, deep blue ponytail back over his shoulder. "Most of its population is composed of those who seek what other societies may now see as outdated. Things like arranged marriages, all-male supremacists, and female inferiority is what we'll be encountering here."

Gon's stunned expression seemed to freeze on his face as the wheels in his head accelerated madly to translate Haku's speech.

Killua, taking note of this, leaned in and whispered to the artificial blonde, "So basically don't argue with any boys, only speak when you're asked to, and just smile and curtsy a lot."

"Oh," Gon murmured aloud in understanding, nodding his head slowly. After a moment, he questioned, "What about Haku-san?"

With a less than pleased tone, Misaki replied, "Haku-san's name is now Daisuke. We're husband and wife, which our parents arranged for me before they died."

"So that means Haku will be the one doing most of the talking with the villagers if he's the man of the house, right?" Killua asked with a calculated angle to his expression.

"Yes," the girl responded hollowly.

The contents of their conversation one day prior led Killua to believe that Misaki was likely as miffed about the great importance of Haku's role in their facade as he was. Since the man's selfish plot during their visit to Tanzanite, only Gon appeared to have faith in Haku's apology and supposed wish for redemption. This alone was unnerving to the boy, who could not particularly see the benefit of traveling with one who was quite possibly out to sabotage them.

The silver haired boy mussed about the hairs of his brown wig (or rather what was originally _Gon's_ wig) and narrowed his eyes at the back of the girl's head. Did she see something advantageous to Haku's presence among them that he could not? He was always so cautious and thorough in his evaluations- it was his nature- so what could he have possibly overlooked here?

* * *

"You look terribly young to have children that are almost teenagers," a pale, middle-aged woman in a red and white checkered dress mentioned doubtfully.

While Haku was chatting apart from the group with a gentleman that apparently lived next door to the house they were to be renting (as it turned out Kareko Village really did have no hospitality towards travelers and consequently no accommodation services like hotels), the remainder were left with the wife. Her hair was brown with natural highlights of grey, indicating either her age or her condition of health and mind, and her eyes darted from the two boys back to Misaki, whom she had been addressing. Despite her prodding, Misaki upheld her composure quite well, nodding her head slightly in a feigned sign of respect. Her hands were placed within the two side pockets of her attire.

"I'm not their mother, I'm afraid," she explained softly. "Our parents met an untimely end in an accident a few years ago. I'm Ai, their older sister."

"Oh," the woman replied in a tone that seemed fairly short. With an obviously forced smile, she said, "I'm Mei and that is my husband, Bao." In a proud whisper, she added, "He's the mayor of Kareko Village."

"I wasn't sure villages had mayors," Gon chimed in, innocently vocalizing his thoughts.

"Rin!" Misaki reprimanded him quickly, tilting her head in his direction.

Scrambling to correct his mistake, Gon grasped the outermost seams of his dress and crossed his ankles, dipping at the knee.

"I'm sorry, oneesan," he offered in a higher pitched voice than usual, hoping his response had been the appropriate one.

The woman called 'Mei' shook her head condescendingly.

"My, what a rude little girl," she sneered. Turning to Gon, she asked, "Can you not see that _adults_ are speaking?"

Before Gon had even a chance to feel the pressure to perform again, Misaki stepped between the two boys and gently clasped a hand in each of her own.

"That's why we're here; to reeducate the children," the artificially silver-haired girl lied. "While it was a pleasure meeting you, Daisuke does not enjoy waiting for his dinner, so we really must be getting inside."

The three turned in unison and retreated in to the house before the woman could think up a viable excuse to hinder them.

* * *

"…A village meeting?" Killua echoed between spoonfuls and Haku nodded enthusiastically in response.

"Yes. Bao-san said that it is common practice for one man per household to attend. There may be a clue there as to what exactly L.I.G.H.T. is or does, so I think it's in our best interest."

The blue eyed boy shook his head in an attempt to sweep the false bangs from his eyes before half-squinting in disdain toward the man.

"That means _you'll _be the one that goes then?" he inquired.

"There's no other choice," Misaki answered for him. Turning to Haku, she asked, "When is it?"

"Fifteen minutes from now," Haku replied, leaping from his seat. "Oh, I'd better get going!"

"Good luck," the girl called after him as he rushed through the door.

She slowly rose from her position and followed the invisible path which Haku had taken from the table. With focused features, she watched him from the empty doorway as he disappeared around a corner in the otherwise quiet street, with every intention of closing the door once he'd vanished from sight.

The sensation of heavily fixated, prying eyes overwhelmed her senses suddenly. She shuddered slightly, a mixture of excitement and discomfort swimming in her blood. Scanning the dimly lit alley for the perpetrator, Misaki's heart did a single hammer-pound against her ribcage. This feeling was not foreign to her, though she was stunned to find herself locking stares with a man, half concealed in the shadows, who from this distance looked almost uncannily like the man she had killed under contract the night she had met…

"Stay here, I'll be right back," Misaki ordered over her shoulder.

Killua appeared to have caught wind of her shift in muscular balance, and he was now leaning forth in her direction from his chair, alert. He'd expected her to unveil what ever plan she had obviously concocted in regards to Haku's attendance at the "meeting", and realized now that she was instead highly distracted by something that rendered her discontented enough to tense up immediately in result.

"What is it?" Gon asked her seriously, mimicking his friend's subtle physical inclinations toward a premeditated, offensive reaction.

Misaki nearly ignored the question, though not intentionally. She was half lost in the wrinkles of the elderly man's distinctive face. His long, salt and pepper beard curled inward at the tips, brushing against his knee caps as the evening breeze reared up. The deep furrow below his bushy, white brows, the long, broken crease that angled across his forehead, the "X" shaped scar on the apple of his right cheek…

"Just wait for me here, I'm going to check something out," the girl insisted before exiting the house.

Killua scowled deeply as she vanished behind the door, well aware that something was not right about Misaki's behavior, which had certainly deviated from her norm. Nonetheless he remained seated at his comrade's side, unsure of whether it would be a good idea to trail the girl or not.

"Should we follow her?" Gon asked earnestly.

The boys eyed one another for several long moments in silence.

* * *

Misaki followed the familiar outer shell of the elderly man through the many nooks and crannies of the alleyway. Once he finally stopped, she rested a light palm on his forward-hunched shoulder blade, massaging under the curve of the bone with the heel of her hand.

"Why did you come here? Is the telephone too informal?" she questioned with a smirk.

Turning to reveal two ominous, black pools where his eyes should be, the man replied in an emotionless voice, "You did not respond to my messages."

"I have to say, I'm extremely impressed that you managed to find us out here," Misaki admitted, running her fingers through her silvery wig.

"Come with me," he commanded passively.

Dropping her lids to half mass, the girl said, "Come with you _where_, exactly? I'm right in the middle of _your_ contract, remember?"

The worn fingers coiled her wrist, drawing her attention back in to him. There was a very slight gleam in the dark, glassy orbs now, and her face flushed mildly at the rush of adrenaline that released at the sight. She knew all too well what he meant.

"Oh," she mumbled as a knowing smile forced itself on to her lips. She lowered her gaze almost shyly and protested in a saddened tone, "The boys will grow suspicious if I'm gone too long..."

This hardly seemed to act as a deterrent, and once again the dull voice repeated, "Come with me."

Despite the determined insistence of her mind, which whispered rather loudly over and over the inner turmoil of her loyalties and whether or not her actions were or had been appropriate, Misaki forcibly blocked it out. Right here, right now, she could not allow herself to be swayed one way or the other; _this_ was most important thing at this very moment.

'_When in doubt, look to what you know for certain_,' she thought persistently.

Routine; yes, decidedly it was appropriate to fall in to routine.

As she stepped to the cleverly disguised Illumi's side and journeyed with him away from the village, she allowed herself to mentally murmur only one, solitary thought before ultimately numbing her brain and focusing on little more than the sound of her footfalls in the frost:

'_Forgive me, Kil'_.


	19. Chapter Eighteen: Intro to Symbiosis

Lingering somewhere between the realms of wake and slumber, Misaki breathed deep the damp, leafy scents of autumn (which the evening breeze gently wafted through the hotel window). With a weak smile, she channeled the heat radiating from the body at her side in the twisted, cotton sheets, using both sensations to lull her in to an oddly soothing bout of nostalgia.

'_Ah yes, it was during the fall that I first met you, wasn't it?_' she recalled inwardly, her lips twitching lightly as though she might nearly have dared to speak the thought aloud.

* * *

_The year it had happened, Misaki had turned only twelve mere months before. It was admittedly much less of a celebration and more of a silent, personal acknowledgement. The difference of this particular date in comparison to the two previous was of course that while she had spent those prior birthdays in solitude, this was in fact the first that she had reached following the death of her parents._

_Despite her self-imposed absence, there was something gut-wrenching the in realization that now there was definitely no home and worse, no family- which she had spent full, fruitless months' worth of hours imagining their reactions to the generous sum of money she was to lay out at their feet- to return to. There was nothing now, and somehow it seemed even worse that she had probably been smiling and dreaming of reuniting with her mother and father even long after they were (though not then to her knowledge), already gone._

_This was easily the determining factor in her decision to ultimately accept contracts at the price of another's life, which she had been purposely avoiding up to now. The part of her that was grief-stricken found a sense of resolve in the decision to keep herself separate from human contact beyond that which was necessary to work and to refrain from forming actual bonds with others. Developing friendships could leave her fundamentally vulnerable, which must not be allowed. She would not feel this great burden of loss ever again._

_The portion of her that was consumed by guilt- whether realistic, exaggerated or some combination of the two- opted to forget their faces as completely as possible. Of course, this was hardly effective during the first year, but after the passing of a few she found that the specifics of their features were nearly impossible to mentally reconstruct._

_Then there was a very small, especially secret region of her psyche that swelled with anger. Some of this anger, in truth, was not pointed in any particular direction, while excerpts of it were fragmented in to jagged pieces which were perhaps a little too focused. She was irritated with herself for being selfish enough to leave under the premise of helping her family, meanwhile leaving them in a state she would nevermore be able to discover. She was bitter toward the apparent cause of their death, which she was unsure whether or not she ought to explore. Yet the worst collection of resentment aimed itself at those whom she had lost, enraged at them for their own demise, as though they had chosen it to spite her…_

* * *

His touch was warmer than she'd been expecting as his fingers firmly snaked both her wrists and drew her wittingly from her rush of thoughts. The weight shifted in to that of his palms, mildly securing her place upon her back. Still, Misaki held her position as though she did not notice this advance, despite the pain throbbing from the previously existing wound on her arm.

"You're not sleeping," Illumi's blank voice announced.

Without lifting her lids, she smiled and admitted, "I never could fool you in to thinking so, could I?"

She nearly added, '_That must run in your family_,' but before her tongue could complete the maneuver to form the first syllable she hastily opted against it.

A smooth, low, rolling chuckle escaped her as the remainder of his body transferred the bulk of itself with ease over her thighs.

"Again? Must have been a stressful work week," she said casually, waiting in anticipation for him to expertly wipe the satisfied smirk from her face as per usual.

As his long hair tipped forward and stray ebony strands brushed against her collarbone and shoulders, tickling the flesh lightly, she angled back her head and clenched her fists from within the restraints of his hands. Once more she was prepared to indulge wholly in either the best arrangement she could have possibly formed with another human being, or the worst…

* * *

_The Hunter's Moon ignited the dusk in a sphere of flushed pink and pallid orange, overcast with patchy shadows of soft lavender. The landscape below was cluttered with long, leaning silhouettes and the soft murmuring of nocturnal life._

_This was the night that an adolescent Misaki Tanoh had officially completed her third contract of assassination. While she was not actively seeking to solely eliminate targets, it was notable that the reward for accepting these conditions was great; she had almost obtained a sum of money collectively between these three contracts akin to her annual profit during her initial year apart from her family._

_In a dark moment, she kicked the bloodied corpse on to its back. She wanted to see the face this time, to assess whether or not she had effectively overcome that tiny, looming smoke of doubt and guilt that had unfortunately plagued her following her first murder. The eyes were wide and staring, almost glass-like. They faced her exactly and yet did not look at her. As she studied the lips, she realized the long, gaping oval that had been present during her fatal strike had lessened to something of a toothy slit._

_Perhaps she was beginning to get the hang of this after all._

_Misaki extended her arm toward the umbrella lodged in the body's chest. It twitched and then wiggled side to side slightly, but did not dislodge. She sighed inwardly, her shoulders and chest raising and lowering with the breath. Her footfalls were nearly inaudible as she approached the fresh corpse and manually forced the parasol free; recognizing quietly that her nen still needed some serious work._

_Apparently the feeling was mutual, and a second presence took immediate advantage of her partial weakness. Almost too late, Misaki sensed a concentration of aura approaching her at an alarming rate. With no available time to open her umbrella to shield her, she simply collapsed at the side of the stiff, lifeless body. While this effort was enough to spare her life from what would have almost certainly been a fatal blow, an agonizingly sharp, piercing sensation in her right shoulder revealed that she had not entirely evaded the attack. With a shaky, non-dominant hand, she pried the two metallic pins from between her joints, the shock setting in to efficiently skew the order of her priorities._

_A second assault was already intended for her, though this time she was slightly more prepared for the onslaught of needles and managed to use her parasol as a safeguard. The material was showered with the pins, which Misaki extracted after a moment of experimental shifting of aura that finally allowed her to turn the spine inside out. A soft melody of clanging echoed through the quiet space as they landed against the cold, concrete floor._

_After turning toward the direction that this time she had noticed the attack originating from, Misaki's heart nearly launched and lodged itself in to her throat at what she saw. She was hardly a believer in ghosts or demons, but for a split second her eyes told a different story. Seemingly hovering above the velvety darkness of the room, with only a sliver of moonlight reflecting off the ghastly pale flesh of the face, was a figure with long, coal black hair and inhumanly ominous cat-eyes._

_'A…** yūrei**?' she thought in horror and disbelief._

_She blinked forcefully a few times before she caught a glimpse of the support beam on which the silhouetted figure stood. Upon closer inspection, it became apparent also that the body structure was that of a man, or rather a boy of about her age. She breathed a soft sigh of relief, and fought to restrain a laugh at her previous foolishness of mistaking him for a phantom._

_'He's human, alright,' she noted, 'but definitely skilled. If his nen had been any more developed I'm sure those needles wouldn't have missed. I need to play it safe.'_

_Their stares were locked in a silent battle of will; her eyes narrowed and determined and his looking at her, in to her, through her until she felt the sensation of drowning enveloping her fully._

_"Who are you?" she whispered so quietly that she was scarce able to hear her own words._

_Of course she had encountered potential enemies and rivals throughout different genres of contracts in the past, but for the first time she found herself dearly **wanting** to know the answer to the question she had never cared enough to bother asking any one of them before._

_It appeared that he had in fact heard her speak, and in a voice that only marginally revealed irritation through the otherwise monotonous droning, he said, "If you steal one of my targets again, I will find you and kill you. Sleep with one eye open."_

_Then, in a flash of ebony shadows before the bright shades of the moon through the fractured pane of window, he disappeared into the night._

* * *

"What is your assessment?" Illumi inquired, ignoring the girl's wandering fingers in his hair.

He scanned her face and eyes for any trace of her true opinion, which he assumed might be looming between her features. Her face was neutral (something she must have intentionally practiced during those years in his absence), and the familiar dazed and dreamy cloud lingered around the amber of her irises. Her body was sufficiently relaxed and tired now; he could sense it clear as day.

A small frown weighted down the corners of her mouth as she sighed and whispered, "You always want discuss work at the worst times."

He didn't quite understand the statement, as he was certain the two had never really conversed about work beyond the night he had initially laid out the conditions of the contract. His eyes blinked slowly, allowing her a moment of peace in order to ultimately retrieve the information he sought.

Forming a scissor-like gesture with her right hand, she mimed snipping at a decent chunk of his hair, which was still draped over her, at shoulder length.

"He's definitely a problem, according to your criteria," she mumbled, fighting to conceal her own personal opinions and instincts towards the tanned, island boy.

"You'll kill him then," he replied simply, no detectable emotion present in his tone.

With a soft finger she traced the outline of his lips, keeping her own expression motionless and grim.

"Illumi," she began with an inflection in her voice that seemed to either imply a question or a cautious suggestion, "I was thinking… I have this very strong feeling that there is something more I should be considering to evaluate that boy with…"

Despite formidably wearing his poker face, Illumi could feel a mild, but definite lurch in his core. He did not need to listen to her words any longer to realize that her potential to veer off course of his contract was growing. Had she become _fond_ of the boy? Did she believe that she now had the right to make her _own_ conditions and carry them through as she pleased?

Unacceptable; Misaki would not betray him. No, she _could_ not betray him, because he had the power to manipulate her as _he_ pleased.

Half mimicking her actions, he ran his fingers through her thick, purple, shoulder length hair (which was left hopelessly messy and tangled from the aftermath of their previous excursions). Her lips stopped moving and thus the flow of her words was successfully ebbed. Her pupils were blown wide with surprise at the unbridled tenderness of the sensation. It was true that he had indeed never done such a thing before.

He leaned in partially and apparently that was enough to convince Misaki to close the majority of the gap between them herself, eagerly pressing her lips to his- another act which the two had never before attempted with one another. Her arms wound tightly around his back and her body pressed pleadingly against his, and he knew instantly that he had won.

'_You __**will**__ kill Gon for me_,' he thought triumphantly to himself as he rolled on to his back, luring the girl on top of him as he braced himself for the all-important round three.

* * *

**A/N:**** "Whaaaat? Isn't this a Killua fic?!"**

**Yes, it is. I swear, it is :P Just trust me on this, haha.**


	20. Chapter Nineteen: Racing the Clock

The warmth of the sun upon the pale, still dewy and sweat-stricken flesh of her face woke Misaki gently from a blissfully undisturbed slumber. Perhaps had she not felt so wonderfully relaxed and mellow, she would have been suspicious of the sudden advances in the "arrangement" between Illumi and herself the night prior. However as it stood at present, she was overwhelmed with a fascinating sensation of peace and attachment that she couldn't have likely found the words to properly describe if even she wished to.

The hollow echo of water droplets on glass encouraged the smile that threatened to reveal itself to surface on to her lips as she languidly stretched her limbs. Well aware that the space next to her on the bed had been long abandoned, she log-rolled a complete rotation across the king sized mattress once before she finally lifted her lids.

The pillow smelled of his hair, and she hugged to it momentarily before finally using her elbow to prop her chin up to see the display on the digital alarm clock.

'_Nine-twenty three_…' her mind whispered in a dreamy sort of manner as she nearly plopped on to her back once more.

In an instant the trance-like sensation was broken and she scrambled to perform a "double take" at the clock. Indeed, the segments of illuminated, green lines unapologetically confirmed her previous reading. Moving almost too quickly for her limbs to keep up, Misaki dived out of bed, unintentionally dragging the sheets with her.

'_Damn, I'm late!_' she mentally cursed as she rushed toward the bathroom, trying unsuccessfully to recall the last time she had been untimely for any work-related event.

None-too-gracefully prying open the steam-smothered shower door, she stepped inside and nearly hip-checked an unsuspecting Illumi out of the path of the water's spray. He simply stared at her.

"You didn't wake me up," Misaki scolded him without bothering to make eye contact, her voice tainted with a desperation he had never heard in it before.

Ignoring the fact that his hair was still veiled with a diluted layer of foam from the shampoo, he merely shrugged her off.

She simply sighed out a short, frustrated breath as she raced through her shower routine at an alarming rate.

"Have you ever heard of an organization called L.I.G.H.T.?" she questioned seriously despite the urgency still looming in her tone.

He thought about it for a moment before replying with a simple, "No."

Followed by an unreasonable flood of water, Misaki threw open the door and hurriedly prepared for her return to Kareko Village, too caught up in her time predicament to properly concoct a viable excuse for her absence.

* * *

"Maybe we should just ask Haku about the meeting ourselves?" Gon suggested quietly, sitting backwards in one of the dining chairs with his chin rested on the frame while gazing up at his friend's back.

Killua grimaced at nothing in particular out the window. Certainly if even _Gon_ had even reached a point of doubt in Misaki returning, then his own apprehension was not unfounded. Unconsciously, he clutched at the window frame he was leaning against, both irritated and concerned as to her whereabouts, as well as partially confused as to why he even ought to be.

Something was wrong, he was positive. Something _must_ have happened, and it was unlikely (in his opinion, at least) that that something was specifically _good_. She had devised a plan the night before, he was convinced, and yet _something_ had distracted her and lured her away before she could even begin to explain it to them. That was nearly _fourteen hours_ ago now…

After hesitating for what he now understood had been too long, Killua had agreed that the two ought to follow the girl. Unfortunately by the time they had reached this conclusion, Misaki had already disappeared down the alleyway behind that odd, decrepit old man with the long, white beard. She had undoubtedly fallen in to Zetsu almost immediately after, as the boys searched long and thoroughly for any trace of their guide ultimately to no avail. Nearly being spotted by a sudden group of village housewives wandering the streets finally persuaded the boys to abandon the hunt and return to their temporary residence.

"Yeah," Killua murmured as his mind fixated on the obscurity of there having been such a group of woman wandering the village together after dark in the first place.

His body was feeling noticeably weary from anxiety and lack of sleep, and he sincerely hoped that his mind would be functioning effectively enough to catch any discrepancies in Haku's account of the previous evening. The fact that the man had stumbled in reeking almost intolerably of booze only just before dawn was disconcerting enough . It was almost guaranteed that he would be experiencing a fairly awful hangover once he had left the safeguard of slumber.

"Alright, let's go wake the geezer up," Killua sighed.

* * *

'_This is going no where_,' the blue eyed boy thought in annoyance.

An unforgiving thirty five minutes had lagged past in which the pair had managed to do little more than hoist Haku out of bed and literally drag him in to the kitchen in order to prop him up in one of the chairs. The blue wig and black rimmed glasses were lying in a heap on the table next to the man's bent elbows. His face was cradled in his hands, and every now and then a pitiful groan would escape between his fingers.

"Haku-san, are you asleep again?" Gon questioned with a frown after a solid five minutes of no response.

A soft, gurgling snore echoed from within his palms.

Approaching the limit of his patience, Killua violently slammed down his knuckles against the table but a few inches from Haku, who in response jolted awake and winced in pain while lifting his fingers to his temples.

"Tell us what happened at the meeting!" the former assassin snapped quite a lot less tactfully than he'd have preferred under normal circumstances.

"Okay, okay," Haku caved instantly, his voice cracking dreadfully as he spoke. "Just refrain from yelling, please."

The boys exchanged glances, and Gon offered up an enthusiastic thumb.

"What is it that you boys would like to know?" Haku inquired in a half-inebriated slur.

In unison, the two cried out, "Everything!"

"Ow…" Haku whined as his dried eyes squinted painfully. At an unnaturally slow pace, he recounted, "Okay…um… I went to the meeting. The…men were all there… and they talked…"

"About what?" Killua urged impatiently.

"…They talked… about… taxes."

"Taxes?" Gon repeated with knitted brows.

"Yes… taxes," Haku agreed.

A brief silence fell over the table.

"…Was that _all_?" Killua asked finally, trying very hard to hold in his frustration.

"No."

Another silence…

"Well, what _else_ did they talk about?" the artificial brunette hissed.

"Oh…" Haku mumbled. "…They talked… about… planning… holiday events… and then… about… going out for… drinks to celebrate… 'Daisuke' as their newest… resident…It was fun but I… I think I… drank too much…"

"You stupid, old geezer!" Killua exploded, "We don't care about taxes or holidays parties, and we especially don't care about you going out for drinks! Did you find out anything about _L.I.G.H.T._?"

"Please don't shout!" Haku shouted.

"Answer the question then!"

Letting out a pathetic sound that registered somewhere between weeping and grunting, the man finally replied, "No, they didn't… but two of the members of L.I.G.H.T. were present."

Gon and Killua glanced to one another with wide eyes.

"How do you know…?" the blue eyed boy began.

He was cut off abruptly by the front door, which creaked gently on its hinges as it opened to reveal Misaki, complete with costumed disguise. All eyes turned to the girl whom they had nearly been willing to give up for dead. She paid no heed to the intensity of their glances and smoothly crossed the room, seating herself amongst the group.

Her gaze met Killua's, whose eyes were narrowing at the whiff of freshly applied, scented soap he had caught (as it lingered in the air from her skin along the path she had traveled passed him). The level of vigilance residing in her amber eyes told the story of the obviously pleasant rest she'd managed to obtain, quite unlike that of himself or his comrade.

'_It looks like we have __**two**__ people that need interrogating now_,' he thought.


	21. Chapter Twenty: Interrogations

Had the air grown denser in the confines of the tiny room at the table of which the four now surrounded?

At least, it seemed so. Yet despite Killua's urge to either question or scold the girl who had finally returned without so much as an acknowledgement towards any one of the preexisting three, he immediately thought better of it. Although he was dreadfully worn from an unease of nerves throughout the entirety of the previous evening and carried forth unto the present moment, his mind was still able to recognize the benefit in concluding one interrogation before beginning another.

Temporarily opting to ignore Misaki's presence, he turned to Haku once more and completed the inquiry he had been interrupted from expressing earlier:

"How do you know that two members of L.I.G.H.T. were there if nobody talked about it at all?"

Sighing, Haku groaned, "Okay, you got me…"

Bending his forearm in to a vertical line at the elbow while simultaneously creating a plateau out of his palm, Haku conjured the same familiar device that he had previously revealed as a tool for measuring the magnitude of earthquakes on his seismographs.

"This is how I know," he admitted with his eyes closed submissively.

"I thought you said that was for…" Gon began, confused.

"Yes, I know," Haku slurred out, "and it _is_ used for that… just not for that exclusively."

Killua narrowed his eyes.

"So how does it tell you the members of L.I.G.H.T.?" the blue eyed boy asked seriously.

"It only tells me four," he explained through an almost painful fatigue, "and here's why: While Gon-kun and I were searching for you and Misaki, we were approached by a few men from the organization. Gon-kun was busy fighting off their advances, but there were more men on the island than just those which approached us. I attached devices to a few others that did not come after us, and two of them were at the meeting last night."

Haku's body rocked very slightly from side to side as he spoke, and he suddenly clutched the rounded edge of the table as if to steady himself, straining to open his eyes meanwhile.

"The device is rooted in electronics," he continued wearily, "and if I link it to a seismograph, it measures the magnitude of an earthquake. However, when I used the laptop back at home as an anchor…"

"Ah," Killua interjected, now understanding, "you can track the person it's attached to, right?"

"Precisely," Haku agreed, releasing the word at a far slower pace than usual in order to say it correctly.

"If you can only track the person it's on, how did you know that their headquarters is here?" Gon questioned; his face a sheer marvel of curiosity and wonder made flesh.

"Well I…" he trailed off, bowing his head.

"You _don't_, do you?" Killua accused, his tone bordering the line of irritation and disbelief. "…And how did you even know that two of the people there were from L.I.G.H.T.; you haven't had access to that laptop since we were at your house."

"There are a total of at least four in this village, the exact number which I tagged on the island," Haku argued quietly in an attempt to redeem himself. "Their headquarters must be located here, or that would be an incredible coincidence. Also, when I'm close enough to use my En, I can indentify the devices without the anchor."

"You forget something, Haku-san," Misaki finally said as she rose from her seat, and the boys turned suddenly at the sound of her chair sliding against the wooden grains of the floor to view her impassive expression. "Even when cloaked with _In_, your devices are not impossible to see so long as one uses _Gyo_. An organization that is so secretive that they would actually be willing to clean up after an eruption that no one else was supposed to know about and go as far as to kill anyone that might catch them during the act would probably be using advanced techniques quite often in their travels. If they know that people have been returning to the scene of the crime, wouldn't they be actively trying to cover their tracks and checking repeatedly to make absolutely sure they _aren't_ being tracked or followed?"

Killua bit his lip.

Haku frowned through his grimace and then insisted, "They can't remove the device once it's anchored; only _I_ can do that."

"What about 'Nen Exorcists'?" Gon chimed in; recalling a previous scenario the pair had encountered in the past.

"If L.I.G.H.T. is going through all this trouble to stay a mystery, it's likely they might even have an exorcist in the organization to make sure that members aren't ever restricted by a nen attack."

Misaki beamed for a moment at the silver haired boy before forcing her lips in to an indifferent, thin line across her face and her eyes to dull considerably. She turned away from the group and drew small, quiet steps toward one of the bedrooms, ultimately abandoning the scene.

'_Such a clever boy,_' she pondered as she examined the intensity gathered in his blue irises over her shoulder. '_You'll give me a run for my money when it's my turn to answer your questions, I can tell._'

* * *

_Knock, knock, knock_.

The sound was neither hesitant and questioning nor particularly graceful in its delivery against the thin sheet of wood acting as a door. Killua was hardly apologetic for the aggressive nature of his fist against the barrier, as indeed he believed that Misaki was the one who ought to be begging for _his_ forgiveness, if anything.

"Enter," her voice permitted in a single, monotonous beat, and without delay he obliged.

The sight he was greeted with was unexpected. The girl had her left foot curled and tucked neatly beneath her, while her right leg was tented at the knee to support the elbow of the adjoining side on the single bed. In this hand she held a book, using her thumb and smallest finger to wing out the pages with a self-facing palm, as though the inked sentences were displayed before her on a pedestal. Her remaining fingers supported the spine while the opposite hand was gently collapsed in her lap, rising only to occasionally turn the page. On the floor were both the wig and the costume, together in a collected heap, and she was attired in her typical shorts, coral laced hiking boots, and ponytailed plum hair.

"I didn't see any books in the house before," Killua murmured suspiciously.

Misaki's amber eyes ran back and forth across the page, but she did not utter a reply.

In a low, but demanding voice, Killua asked, "Where did you go last night?"

Without so much as glancing up from her novel, she replied, "It was a personal matter."

Killua's brows descended marginally as he persisted, "You said you were coming right back, and then abandoned us."

"It's not 'abandoning' if I come back," the girl explained, her tone lacking any real passion in the words she spoke.

"Don't try to change the subject," he warned. "We thought you were coming back and we waited for you all night." Turning the foundation of his words more intense, he repeated, "_Where_ did you go last night?"

Killua watched as her eyes continued to roll to and fro in a rhythmic pattern over the bonded sheets of paper. His pulse accelerated in response from frustration.

"Answer my question," the boy urged, his aura beginning to release in his resentment of the silence that appeared to envelope the small space around them.

"I have," she finally told him with disinterest, "and I'll answer any _new_ questions as well. If you only asked the right ones, then you'd probably have the answers you _seek_."

Hardly in the appropriate mood to solve the puzzle of her mind games, Killua wrenched the brown wig from his head and fired it with anger-fueled precision on to the floor nearest Misaki. To his dismay, she did not as much as bat and eye at the minor tantrum.

"Who was that old geezer?" he asked, giving in to the hint to ask different questions.

"I worked for him once when I was a Contract Hunter," she lied convincingly.

"What did he want?" the boy asked, mussing his flattened hair.

"To discuss a contract, what else?"

"Assassination?" he asked, raising his brows in remembrance of a previous conversation.

"Maybe."

"Did you… accept?" Killua asked slowly.

He became bothered by the long silence that followed, especially since he noticed that her eyes had ceased their constant movement across the pages. She was thinking intricately about something that should have been a simple yes or no answer…

"I told you, I'm not an assassin anymore," she responded softly.

Killua considered her reply for a few brief moments before marching ferociously to her bed side and snatching the book from her fingers. Still, her eyes avoided him.

"It doesn't take all night to just say '_no_', does it?" he insisted.

"It does if the client is a senile old man," she argued.

"How did he even know you were here?"

"He followed me," she whispered. A pause while Killua winced with discomfort at the implications of the statement, and then: "I've told him no, and now he's gone. Please return my book to me."

Shaking his head, the boy glared at her as he tossed the soft-covered rectangle at the plum haired girl. She caught it with ease, and their stares met for the first time since he had entered the room. Killua was well aware that her story was flawed and certainly untruthful- or at least not _entirely_ true- but nonetheless there was something that dwelled within his psyche that urged him to accept her words… at least for now.

'_I… __**want**__ to believe her_,' Killua realized with sincere shock at the contradiction swirling tightly coiled rings in his sleep-deprived mind.

Despite her eyes having already lowered back on to the thin, paper pages, Misaki seemed to take notice of his weariness and said, "You should have a nap while there is time to do so. You lost a lot of aura just now while you were questioning me."

Grumpy and burnt out on dealing with both the girl and his adverse thoughts and wishes, Killua gladly turned to the door and reached for the large, protruding bolt which simulated a knob. His eyes became distracted meanwhile as they scanned the mainly empty space closed in between the four walls, and then landed upon the cover of the book.

"What are you reading?" he murmured in a soft whisper as he studied the locked gaze she held upon the object.

No response.

"Hey, old lady," he reattempted, "what kind of book is that?"

The pad of her free middle finger guided the page across the collection of others she had surpassed, but no words came from her lips.

"Old hag," he shouted a little too loudly, "what is your book about? Answer me, will you!"

After a moment, Misaki blankly mumbled, "My name is not 'old lady' or 'old hag', you know."

"Well I didn't say those things the first time, and you still ignored me," Killua snapped.

"It's about an adult man that falls in love with a twelve year old girl, and all the glory and repercussions that come with such a situation," she explained indifferently, successfully side-stepping his statement.

Scrunching his features, he asked, "Adults can fall in love with teenagers just like that? Must be one of those weird, girly romance books..."

Willingly glancing up at him, Misaki scooted over and patted the mattress where she had just been seated. Killua hesitated before lazily approaching the bed and sitting down on the warm patch of blanket. His back faced the girl and his feet still touched the floor. He knew well that her skin smelled sweetly of fresh soap, and did not wish to inhale the scent that would once more insist that he ought to dig deeper in to the holes of her story.

"How will you be able read like that?" she asked, a small trace of amusement seeping in to her voice.

Against his better judgment, Killua admitted awkwardly, "I don't really know how to read much…"

This apparently gained her undivided attention, and the former assassin could feel her eyes on his back.

"You don't know how to read?" she questioned in legitimate amazement.

"I didn't say _that_!" Killua protested, his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment at the sincerity in her voice. Trying to brush off the feeling that he was being indirectly mocked for his lack of the skill, he explained on rapid fire, "I just never learned properly how to do it. I learned some on my _own_, anyway. Besides, I don't need to know how to read and write a lot to get a message across..."

* * *

A sudden weight upon her right shoulder slowed her verbal narration to a halt mid-sentence, and Misaki tilted her head to find that the silver haired boy had indeed fallen asleep with his head against her. With wandering eyes she had occasionally strayed from the page to peek at him, enthralled in his attempts to so obviously to figure out where she was in a paragraph as she dictated the words aloud to him. At first he had made a point of leaving a decent sized gap between their bodies, though eventually his curiosity in the print of the story had lured him right to her side. Eventually, it must have grown to be simply too much to keep his eyes moving from one separate cluster of letters to another.

In spite of herself, she smiled down at the peacefully sleeping Killua and indulged in her desire to gently tousle his still partially flattened hair.

'_Is this what it would be like to have a little brother_?' she wondered.

Staring at the youthfully blank face, she felt a strange, slightly _off_ pulsing in her heart beat. It was incredible that Illumi's brother could appear so innocent and… non-threatening? Was that the correct word?

'_He's still a cold-blooded killer_,' she reminded herself in a sore attempt to stay focused on her contract.

Her cheeks tinted slightly and she reeled her attention back in to her novel.

'_You're warm, Kil_,' she mentally interrupted herself before sighing and opting to simply bend back the corner of her page and stare quietly at the wall ahead to clear her foolish, noisy thoughts.


	22. Chapter Twenty-One: A Turn of Events

Killua and Gon were slightly taken aback by Misaki's unspoken refusal to assist in constructing a plan, though they pushed forth regardless and managed to come up with something that seemed relatively useful. Haku had argued (following the plum haired girl's sudden exit from the conversation earlier that day), that the possibility of a Nen Exorcist having entered the scene was unlikely since he still _was_ capable of tracing the devices he had planted. This had peaked the boys' attention, particularly Killua, who now had nothing left of which to throw at Haku. Perhaps he was being truthful this time.

The plan was simple, but that had indeed been the intention of the duo. It was decidedly beneficial to keep interactions with the members of L.I.G.H.T. limited until they had collected enough vital information to close in safely. Haku would inconspicuously point out who the devices were attached to, and each of them would be assigned a single member to shadow and study until something of distinct use could be uncovered. There was certainly an advantage to mirroring their number, and they were ready to take advantage of it one step at a time.

"He's going back in to the mayor's house again," Gon whispered in to his phone, which was multi-linked to the remaining three.

"Looks like mine is headed there, too," Killua agreed, peering around the side of the building.

"My gentleman is already in there," Haku admitted, sighing.

Silence claimed the line.

"Misaki, what is your position?" Killua asked as the square-jawed man he was trailing reached the property line.

Still, there was no response.

"Misaki…?" Killua hissed quietly in to the phone.

"Misaki-san?" Gon chimed in to assist his friend.

"_Onee-san_?" the silver haired boy tried, assuming she might have purposely been ignoring them because they had failed to use her alias.

'_What in the world is that girl up to now_?' Haku wondered after checking his screen to confirm that she was indeed still linked in to the call.

* * *

The man Misaki had been appointed to pursue was extraordinarily simple to keep in sight. He had remained in the open nearly the entire time she had been stalking him and she was able to place an otherwise unrealistic distance between them without losing track of his whereabouts.

'_He must already know that someone will follow_,' she decided suspiciously when he had returned to the mayor's house for the third time that hour using the most open and (incidentally) _least_ direct route possible.

However as she waited soundlessly for her victim to re-exit the building, her eyes became magnetized to an unsuspecting Gon- or rather his defenseless back. Clearly he hadn't sensed her and was completely vulnerable to an attack, as of course he had fallen in to Zetsu in order to avoid his presence being noted by the man he was following.

'_If I aim to collapse his spine from the correct angle, it wouldn't take much aura_,' her mind tempted her as it waved images of her previous evening just behind her eyes.

As if in a trance, her hand slipped down the nape of her neck in to the collar of her kimono and gripped the concealed umbrella handle. She had managed to retract half of the hooked base before a sharp voice at her ear drew her from her fixated state of being.

"Misaki, stop messing around!"

The voice belonged to Killua, and it was reaching her through the receiver of the cellular device she had long forgotten was still held against her left ear.

Without recalling her stare from her true victim, she finally replied a little too seriously, "I never 'mess around' in the middle of a mission; I assure you."

"Uh… okay," the former assassin said awkwardly, obviously confused by her answer. "We just wanted to know where your guy is, and you didn't say anything…"

"Oh," she mumbled, blinking several times in an attempt to dispel the allure of concluding her contract. "He's in the mayor's house still."

"We have to go in there," Gon insisted determinedly.

"W-What?" Haku protested.

"They all keep going in there, so there must be a clue inside," he elaborated.

"It's the _mayor_'s house in a _village_," Haku explained. "There are plenty of legitimate reasons for anybody here to visit- even repeatedly!"

"I don't know," Killua disagreed, "they've been going in and out all afternoon. I think Gon is right and we should check it out when they leave next."

"B-But…"

"Haku and I will be your reinforcements," Misaki interrupted, much to the chagrin of the bespectacled man. "The mayor and his wife might be in there even when those four aren't, so make sure you're careful and have a good excuse for going in if you're caught."

Both boys nodded firmly.

"We'll find out what's going on," the tanned boy promised.

"Yeah, we can handle it," Killua said.

"I still think this is extremely moronic. We haven't even agreed on a rational plan further than th-."

"Best of luck, Riku and Rin," Misaki broke in over him as the four alleged L.I.G.H.T. members slowly filtered out of the house, snapping shut her phone afterwards.

Killua clenched a fist and Gon readjusted his dress before the two simultaneously headed toward their neighbors' house.

* * *

Nearly ten minutes of constant, fruitless searching was beginning to rattle the boys' confidence some. With busy eyes and hands, they had performed a shallow scan of the living room and kitchen before going as far as to open all cupboards and reach between cushions for any hint that might link them to L.I.G.H.T.

Just as they were preparing to abandon this plan, Gon realized something.

"We haven't looked in the bedrooms yet."

"The mayor and his wife might be in one of them," Killua warned.

"They might not be," the spiky haired boy argued back.

"There's no convincing you," the ex assassin sighed.

"I know!" Gon exclaimed in an excited whisper as he offered out a sideways fist. "Jan Ken Pon?"

Killua shrugged. At least this way there was a _chance_ to avoid having to follow through with this probably foolish plan…

"Show me rock…"

* * *

At first it appeared that the bedroom Killua had entered was as ordinary and ultimately futile to their goal as the last rooms had been. The severe lack of furniture and closet space certainly limited the possibilities of turning up anything particularly useful. That was, of course, until the boy pulled open the only drawer to the night stand to the left of the twin sized bed.

As if it had been waiting there for him all along; a small, rectangular business card with severely shrunken world flags surrounding the double X symbol on the hunter's license stared him in the face. It was neatly positioned atop a dark blue, hard covered Gideon bible; the only other object even present in the drawer. The registry number "020" was displayed in thin, metallic silver. In slight awe, Killua seized the card between his thumb and the second knuckle of his index finger.

"Taiki, I told you to stop carelessly leaving your membership card around!" a vaguely familiar female voice shrieked from the doorway behind him.

In an instant the boy dropped the card and spun to face Mei, who was studying him with a cold smirk and an air of authority that he had not expected from a woman in such a conservative village. As if on cue, Bao appeared behind her with his palms on the shoulders of a rope-bound and de-wigged Gon. Gyo revealed the rope to be shrouded in a fairly thick, but smooth aura.

"I'm sorry, Miu, dearest!" Bao apologized hastily, bowing his head low to the woman.

"Now," she said to Killua, ignoring her husband, "you have the choice of either surrendering quietly or dying painfully."

Locking stares with his comrade, the silver haired boy shifted a single step forth. He wasn't certain how he could have failed to sense the two until they had him practically surrounded, but nonetheless he kept his wits about him as best as possible.

'_Misaki and Haku are outside, and they'll realize something is wrong and come for us_,' he told himself, desperately hoping that he could count on the two for support.

His hesitation trigged a small, girly sort of laugh from the woman.

"Oh, I see; you must think your friends will save you. I hate to be the bearer of bad news but…"

She trailed off just in time for the four alleged members of L.I.G.H.T. which they had been previously shadowing to enter the confines of the hallway behind her, perfectly aligned to Killua's span of vision. One man held Haku with both hands secured behind his back. His glasses were hardly on as the frames had slipped to the very edge of his nose. The remaining three surrounded Misaki; two on either side grasping her arms and one standing guard just behind with her long, white wig clutched in his fist.

"So you see," continued the woman, drawing one step nearer to Killua (who instinctively withdrew one back), "you haven't got a chance. Give yourself up now…"

Reaching in to the front pocket of her checkered apron, she retrieved and held up another L.I.G.H.T. card, this time with the numbers "006" in shimmering gold. Her face turned deadpan and her entire demeanor transformed in to more of that of a high-ranking officer than the cruel, playful maniac that had been practically teasing the blue eyed boy only mere moments ago.

"In the name of the Legion of International Governments' Hunter Troops, you four are guilty of interference with government-appointed conspiracy concealment and clean up, and are hereby sentenced to death."


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two: Containment

_The Legion of International Governments' Hunter Troops…_

"Conspiracy Hunters…" Misaki pondered aloud, swishing her head to deflect the sweaty strand of flattened plum hair out of her eyes. "So the stories are true then; they do exist."

"If you try to move around me," the woman that had once introduced herself as 'Mei' said to the silver haired boy a few meters before her (ignoring Misaki's words altogether), "it will take little effort for me to stop you. In the best case scenario, you might manage to fake me out, but I have five more allies just there. I'd say that gives you less than a one percent chance of actually escaping, assuming there is a one percent margin of error in my calculations, of course."

The woman's eyes deceived her for a moment and flashed with a sickening expression of glee at Killua's predicament. She flicked the back of her upper, front teeth with the tip of her tongue.

"If you surrender, I will ensure that your death is quick and painless, but if you struggle I cannot make amends for you. Keep in mind that even if you defied logic and reason and miraculously _did_ manage to escape, I would then simply torture your friends. That's the way it is, kid. Make your choice."

The boy could feel his body gripped by paralysis. The conviction in her voice believably backed up the probability of her intended actions. His muscles were tight, and in result there was a light tremble to his otherwise lack of movement. The likelihood of defeating her in battle, not even considering her remaining five colleagues lingering in the background, was slim to none. She was more powerful, he was certain, and his mind urged him to escape despite the rigid reaction of his body.

"Killua!" Gon suddenly burst out. "Don't just give up, I believe you can win!"

"Gon…"

"Don't worry about us!" the tanned boy insisted.

"What?" Haku gasped incredulously. "No, forget that! Give up! I don't want to be tortured!"

"Make your choice," the woman repeated again, louder this time.

"I…" Killua started, scrambling inwardly to organize his whirling mass of conflicted thoughts.

Her brows rose expectedly and her head shifted slightly to the right, as though to motivate him to finish the sentence.

"I…"

Now she was drawing slow, deliberate steps toward him, her aura extending further than twice her arms' reach around her in the tiny room.

"I… surrender," he finally said, lowering his head to face the ground with a mixture of guilt and damaged pride coursing through his veins.

"You made the right decision, kid," the woman assured him, stepping behind him to tie his wrists together.

Killua wasn't at all convinced of the validity of that statement.

* * *

"Hey, Misaki-san?" Gon started, breaking the silence. When she nodded her head, he continued with, "When an item is conjured, does that mean it can't disappear?"

The question had come to the spiky haired boy during the awkward quiet that had fallen over the group, all bound now in nen-infused rope, while he had been staring fixedly at the bars to the cage they were presently contained in on the basement floor. The cell had been conjured by 'Bao' as a place to store the four until apparently another L.I.G.H.T. member with an ability that was deemed ideal for transporting bodies inconspicuously would arrive to assist them. He remembered Kurapika's chains, which had always seemed visible to him, in his search to discover a weakness that might aid in their outbreak.

"Not exactly," Misaki replied. "Conjurers don't necessarily need to be in a specific range of the objects they create to keep them tangible, but if someone has a condition set on something like that to strengthen it, I guess the item could theoretically stay materialized forever. Assuming the condition is met and the user is very practiced at conjuring, that is."

"Do you think there is a condition set on these bars?" he pursued.

Tilting her head thoughtfully, she admitted, "I'm quite positive there must be. Conjured items are never as strong as the actual items they mirror on their own, so in order to create a cage that can't be broken easily by nen he would definitely need a restriction in place."

"So we need to find out what the restriction is in order to weaken the bars to the execution of a nen attack," Haku reasoned out somewhat optimistically from the back corner of the tiny prison.

"It doesn't matter if we figure out the restriction," Killua announced sullenly, his knees curled up pitifully in to his chest and chin.

The blue eyed boy, now stripped of his wig like the rest, was still experiencing an overwhelming bout of self-loathing at his inability to stand up to 'Mei' earlier. Submerged deeply in a pool of shame and insecurity, he was hardly apt toward any sort of enthusiasm for the time being.

"Of course it does," Haku argued.

"No, it doesn't," the boy reiterated.

"Oh? Why is that, Killua?" Gon questioned sincerely.

"Even if we figured out the restriction on the bars and managed to use it to our advantage, we can't use nen to attack, anyway."

"Huh?" Gon and Haku responded together.

"Ah," Misaki said, now understanding, "I see now."

Haku forced out an undignified grunting sound.

"Well would you two be so kind as to let _us_ in the loop?"

"The ropes," Killua explained, "are forcing us in to Zetsu, so as long as they're tied around us we can't use nen."

Gon's face scrunched in confusion.

"If the restriction on the bars makes it so that nen won't break them, why did they use ropes to force us in to Zetsu? Isn't that kind of wasting aura?"

Despite the legitimate and innocent perplexity to the inquiry, Gon had inadvertently sparked a ray of hope in the remaining three. Misaki's facial features lengthened slightly, Haku's body jolted, and Killua raised his chin with his mouth partially agape.

"Of course!" Killua cried out, nearly forgetting his inner turmoil in the excitement of the discovery.

"Did you figure something out?" Gon asked.

"If the purpose of the ropes is to stop us from using nen inside the cage…" the former assassin began.

"…And the cage would be capable of being almost indestructible with the right set of conditions on the ability…" Haku piped up.

"…Then the bars are not likely under limitations to enhance their strength, which is why the ropes are being used in the first place," Misaki finished.

"Oh!" Gon called out after a moment's consideration. "…But then, why use the cage at all?"

"Either to confuse us, to contain us in one place without the need for supervision, or both," she explained.

Grinning widely, Gon said, "Then that means we just need to figure out how to remove these ropes and we can escape!"

"Not even all of the ropes," the girl corrected him slyly.

"What do you mean, Misaki-san?"

"New plan," she announced, using her bound legs to shift her seated body around to face the others. "First we need to decide who among us is the best at utilizing Enhancer abilities."

"Gon _is_ an Enhancer," Killua chimed in.

The girl's amber eyes scanned the determined island boy carefully, and she drew in a long, steadying breath before continuing.

"Okay, the plan is to focus on removing _Gon's_ ropes then…" she explained, and the trio of males leaned in close as she whispered to them the basics of their newfound strategy.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three: The Aftermath

Voices were constantly chattering in the distance, meshing together in to a single and unstable entity of gurgling which mimicked the sensation of being submerged in water. From behind sealed eyelids, a trembling streak of light occasionally appeared and then vanished again in to the veil of blackness. A routine stream of air swelled directly and awkwardly through the neck, filling the lungs and then allowing them to empty themselves on the off beat. With extremely weary muscles, Misaki Tanoh struggled to open her eyes and shift her body marginally to gain a respectable view of her surroundings.

She was inside a hospital, of that there was no doubt. The scent of medical-grade antiseptics and cleaners flowed freely through the confines of the room. Her clothing had been changed at some point, as she was clad in a thin, patient's gown, which felt papery as it rubbed against her thighs with each movement no matter how slight. The coppery taste of blood lingered in her mouth, every so often dominating her taste buds as if it were fresh once more. Despite her sense of sight working at only partial capacity, she could tell that the florescent light above her flickered with unimpressive persistence.

"You're awake," Killua's lightly muffled voice announced darkly from a blurred silhouette.

Sacrificing a great deal more strength that she was proud of, the girl blinked her eyes several times in order to effectively see (though still through a slight halo of static) the silver haired boy. He was seated a few meters from her bedside, elbows supporting his slumped figure against his knees. His eyes were not visible even to the average person, as they were shielded behind the purposefully forward-shifted fringe of his hair.

"Kil'…?" a frighteningly raspy voice croaked out, and it took Misaki a full moment to realize that it had indeed been her own.

"You knew, didn't you?"

"Kil'…"

"You _knew_," he repeated, his tone still low despite the abruptness to it.

"I… _suspected_," she corrected him between her ventilator's cycle of breath.

His shoulders tensed and hunched inward before he said, "I… am tolerant to poisoning. I definitely wouldn't have suffered. You should have told us the truth."

A silence passed between them, and Killua wondered whether she was soaking in his words, considering a response, or had become simply too weak to speak any longer.

"If you wouldn't… have been affected… the nen on the ropes… wouldn't have deactivated."

"Idiot!" he suddenly shouted at her, slamming his palms fiercely against the arm rests as he half rose from his seat and lifted his face to her.

The whites of his eyes (even through her hazy vision), she could tell were dry and irritated, as multiple veins of red surrounded the blue of his irises. Withdrawing in to his silvery hair once more, the boy repositioned himself in the chair with his arms folded tightly over his chest. His body quivered mildly.

'_He's actually upset that I put my life in potential danger_,' she realized with legitimate shock.

* * *

Misaki had adamantly insisted that the nen on the ropes were likely linked together only when the victim was at a certain level of health and physical wellness.

This would give them a small, but potentially possible opportunity to sever the ropes and retaliate. Rather, the first person that was taken for their sentence could accept punishment enough to lose the nen in the ropes, accurately feign their death, and still manage to muster up enough aura to sneak attack the unsuspecting L.I.G.H.T. member who was likely responsible for the restrictive nen. This would at least (according to Misaki) leave a window of opportunity to momentarily cease the ability, allowing for Gon to use this time to shed the restraints, as it was crucial to the plot that he was to be the "second" sentenced. The girl had insisted that the only way to ensure that the target was sufficiently distracted was to wait until the next person was retrieved for slaughter. Then Gon, capitalizing on his offensive advantages as an enhancer, was to launch an attack at the cell in order to release the remaining two. The remaining ropes of course, could then be actively severed and the four could escape.

"I still think this is far too risky," Haku had proclaimed as the final touches to their anticipated plot were being laid out.

"I actually agree with the geezer," Killua admitted. "We still don't know _how_ they plan to execute us for sure, and the person that goes first has a high chance of dying even if it does work out."

"I'll go first then," Misaki volunteered with a shrug. "I had planned to, anyway."

"Is there _nothing_ you want to live for?" Haku spat out at her, appalled to hear her speak so casually about something he was so terribly afraid of.

"To complete my mission, I suppose."

Shaking his head in disbelief, the man grumbled, "You haven't changed…."

Ignoring him and tilting her head toward Gon, she asked, "Will you remember your duties? There isn't any room for mistakes."

"I definitely will," he said with a decisive nod.

The girl ran her amber eyes over the features of her two critical skeptics. She nodded her head low before looking up at them once more.

"They will use physical force, probably," she told Killua, who scrunched his face in hesitant disbelief. "Think about it; they scouted the island intending to kill intruders that way, did they not? Now that they have us it's likely they would resort to physical violence in order to really enjoy the kill that they've had to delay. You saw the look in that woman's eyes; that's what this is all about. This gives me a good chance to fake death, and then they'll want to move immediately on to the next one in order to keep the rush from fading."

Consequently, Haku and Killua were fairly convinced by the girl's argument. Despite the possibility of failure and ultimately death staring them in the face, it was uniformly difficult to brush off the only plan of action they had managed to acquire. Besides, Misaki sounded so very certain of her statement. Her wealth of experience had to stand for something, Killua had decided, and so with a deeply hopeful attitude sweeping over the group, the strategy was officially and unanimously accepted.

Of course, the girl was never one to admit fully her presumptions, especially if she ruled them to be an unintentional deterrent. In fact, she was quite positive that the method she had so seriously debated was not in truth the one that L.I.G.H.T. would be using.

As the time for judgment drew upon them, Misaki inwardly recalled her own concealed knowledge, which she was certain would deter the others if she had admitted it to them:

'_Lethal injection… exactly what I should expect from a government hired organization._'

* * *

"Where are… Gon and Haku-san?"

The boy did not respond immediately. Instead, he ran his fingers through his hair from his forehead back to the nape of his neck and then sighed out a long, exasperated breath.

"They're guarding Taiki until we decide how we want to use him."

"Which one… is Taiki…?"

"The geezer that called himself 'Bao'. One of the members of L.I.G.H.T. can trade peoples' appearances if he has some of their blood. The real Bao and Mei were killed while they waited for us to show up disguised as them," he explained, avoiding eye contact. A pause, and then: "What you did was stupid."

"I always… intended for your… lives to be spared," she whispered.

A quiet rage had been slowly filling Killua, coursing through his veins, since he'd discovered Misaki's unconscious and body stretched out across the floor following his escape from the cell. It stemmed from an odd fear, one he could feel impeccably but not truly identify. The plan had indeed been a success, but the outcome had not at all leveled his expectations.

'_She was willing to die to save us_,' he'd understood then, vowing to do everything in his power to repay her.

Of course, the girl had perhaps been less heroic than she was being credited for. Misaki had known for certain that she would not die from the injection, as she was confident in the spirit that the boys shared that she would be saved.

'_It was a bit reckless, but in the end I'm still here_; _just as I thought_,' her groggy mind assured her.

Meanwhile, Killua's emotions had reached a peak. He stomped up to the bed with a stare that would make the devil pale and grasped her wrist too firmly to excuse in his non-dominant hand.

"Do you want to die?" he asked despondently with an eerie calm.

Through increasingly wearying eyes she attempted to study him, still limited greatly by her ailments. Her pulse echoed in his palm as the blood struggled to reach her fingers.

"If you ever do something like this again… I won't ever forgive you."

"Killua," she murmured, resting the fingers of her opposite hand against his firm knuckles. "This is…"

Her amber eyes were softening, despite the unshakable cloudiness inside them. A very small smile graced her lips, and the former assassin loosened his grip. For a moment his features expressed a level of vulnerability to the girl which startled him, and he forced his face to stiffen, if only very slightly, to erase the feeling.

"You're the one… that saved me… aren't you?" she asked quietly.

"You knew I would, right?" he said with a shrug, his tone a little sharper than he intended for it to be.

As her body began to give way once more to much needed slumber, the fingers she was resting upon his knuckles weighted and then dragged from position, caressing the flesh slightly.

"Thank you, Killua-san," she whispered almost incoherently before nodding off.

The tickle of her skin against his startled him, but he did not retract his hand. In fact, as she slept, he eventually opted to drop to one knee so that he did not immediately lose the curious feeling that seemed to flow from her hand in to him. It was warm; this feeling. Was it some form of nen?

'_You'll heal soon_,' he promised in his mind as though she might somehow hear him. '_I'll_…_**We'll**__ wait for you_.'


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four: Bonding and Bet

Over a month had passed and still Misaki was diagnosed as being in no proper condition to leave the hospital. Despite the inconvenience this had undeniably caused the remaining three, particularly since they were guarding a member of L.I.G.H.T. who might of course attract reinforcements to reclaim him, they waited without voicing their complaints. Between them was now a kind of understanding that hadn't existed before, and no one was overwhelmingly sore about hanging back even while it was clearly not the most preferable strategy.

Killua routinely visited the girl each day, although half the time she was probably unaware of such since she was often unconscious for most or (in some instances) _all_ of his stay. During the first two weeks or so, even during times of wake it was apparent that she was either heavily drugged or simply too overtly fatigued to really appreciate his presence at her side. Still, he'd sat in the admittedly uncomfortable guest chair (always the same one in the line of three) and either watched over her while she slept or periodically drifted off himself until the nurse entered with the announcement that visiting hours were over.

It was about the thirty third day when he was greeted by a comparatively very much alert Misaki, finally freed from the breathing machine and lying back against the propped pillows with her fingers knitted upon her stomach.

"Another week, they say," she had told him casually once he'd fully stepped in to the room.

To celebrate, she had him dig about in the oversized back pockets of her shorts, which were folded neatly on a side table, and retrieve the book she had been amidst reading to him earlier the same afternoon they had been intercepted by L.I.G.H.T. Without another conversational word, she simply opened the novel to the page with the bent back corner and read to him until her voice was strained and hoarse.

"So you'll be released tomorrow?" he interrupted her narration on the thirty ninth evening.

From the moment of his arrival she would begin reading aloud to him, and would not cease until either visiting hours were expired or her voice was- which ever occurred first. This time he was prepared to get a word or two in.

"Tomorrow morning."

"Good. It's taken you forever to heal. I guess that's what happens when you get old, right?" he teased.

"You shouldn't press your luck," she replied in a passive tone, despite smirking ever so slightly from behind the cover of the book.

"We should celebrate!" Gon's voice suddenly announced from the doorway. He rushed toward the bed and bowed low from the waist before he said, "I'm sorry I didn't visit you before, Misaki-san!"

"Haku is pretty useless when it comes to guarding," Killua sighed. "Did you leave him _alone_ with Taiki?"

"Well, uh…" Gon mumbled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with curved palm. He frowned as he added, "I thought it would be okay just for an hour while I came to visit. You got to see Misaki-san every single day, but I didn't even get to see her once."

Killua shot his friend a glare to silence him. Although his words were true, there was something that the blue eyed boy had found comforting in the girl's probable lack of knowledge as to his daily visitation. Having it displayed so obviously was somehow embarrassing.

The sound of the book against the bedside table drew both boys' attention to the girl, whose hair was notably askew as she leaned over to open the drawer. From it she revealed a deck of typical playing cards with patterned red backs.

Their eyes nearly popped out of their heads as they stared at the cards whilst she shuffled them over and over again in her hands.

"You two like to play games, don't you?" she questioned, deadpan.

In unison, they withdrew a step.

"We could make it interesting," she suggested.

Killua's muscles locked in place. This girl couldn't possibly be associated with…

…Could she?

Scanning the faces of the boys with a grim expression, she swiped a single card between her index and middle finger. She rotated her wrist slowly, and their eyes seemed to reveal the immense terror which paralyzed their joints.

She flicked the card toward them.

Both boys reacted what could only be described as "madly". The card touched to Killua's shoulder, and he cringed before suddenly jumping and running his hands over himself as though a venomous snake had slithered aboard his body while he fought to locate and toss it away. Gon let out a cry and fell backwards, knocking over all three guest chairs.

"Shh!" a nurse spat from the doorway at them. "This is a hospital, not a zoo! There are patients in intensive care in this ward, so keep it down or you won't be permitted to stay!"

"Sorry!" Gon apologized immediately. "It's just that my friend…"

"Just keep it down!" the lady snapped before continuing on her way.

A strange, slightly high pitched and wavering sound suddenly took the stage. After the shock had lessened, the boys exchanged dumbfounded glances and then gazed at Misaki, who was trying fruitlessly to stifle her laughter from behind her hand. Killua glanced down at the card, which was lying uselessly on the floor, and picked it up.

"It's just a normal card," he sighed, quite relieved.

'_She was just playing off our reactions_,' Killua realized.

He cocked an eyebrow half in irritation and half in jest as he insisted, "You really _are_ bad natured, Misaki."

The girl simply continued to chuckle.

* * *

"That means you win, I guess," Killua grumbled, pushing his cards in to a collected pile before handing them back for Misaki to shuffle.

"Don't be a sore loser; you won five games already," she scolded gently, expertly flipping the deck from one hand to the other.

"…Out of _twenty_ rounds," he protested sourly.

"That's a lot more than I won the first time I played Platoon," she assured him. "Experience counts, you know."

"I know _someone_ you wouldn't be able to beat."

"Someone you've played against?"

"Well, no," he admitted.

"Then you can't possibly know that for certain," she debated with an indifferent voice.

"I'm sure he cheats," Killua argued, a smug smirk fastened on his lips.

Shrugging, Misaki replied, "So do I."

The former assassin's mouth fell agape and his face scrunched as he pointed an accusatory finger at the girl.

"You're _cheating_?"

"No, but I usually would," she admitted.

Rolling his eyes, he bitterly whispered, "How is it even possible to cheat at this game? You need to have all of your cards set up face-down before it even starts. It would be obvious if you were switching them around."

"There are ways to cheat at nearly everything," Misaki insisted. "Maybe you're just too honest to look for them. I learned how to cheat at Platoon during a contract at a casino when I was maybe a year or two older than you are now."

The sound of the cards skidding across the steel of the night stand as Misaki dealt out a fresh hand overlapped with the soft snoring to Killua's left. His eyes turned to peek at Gon, whose jaw was slack and peaceful. The tanned boy had fallen asleep in his seat during the fourth or so round of poker, thus Killua and Misaki having opted to play something better apt to only two people.

"Was that an assassination contract, too?" Killua asked her calmly as he studied his hand.

"No, just a well paid scam, really."

"Oh."

"Excuse me," a new voice called from the doorway, "but I just wanted to let you know that all visitors need to leave now."

"We have one hand left," Misaki explained, "I'll send them away straight after."

The woman frowned.

"I'm afraid your friends must leave _now_. Those are the rules."

"I will send them away once this hand is through," the plum haired girl repeated.

"It's five after nine already…" the nurse started.

"Yes, and the longer you insist on arguing about it, the longer they'll be here, it seems," she interrupted in a deceivably agreeable tone.

Throwing her hands in the air, the nurse mumbled, "Five minutes more is all you get," before turning on her heel and exiting the room.

As though the woman had never been present at all, Misaki continued to arrange her hand in to five faced down groups. Her amber eyes eventually rose to Killua's face.

"Feeling lucky?" she asked so seriously that the boy was unsure of how to answer. After a moment, she said, "What I mean is, would you like to make a bet?"

The boy's blue eyes scanned from card to card. It was a good hand… maybe even a great one.

"I won't cheat," she promised, raising her arms to show him her empty palms as though that should convince him.

"I guess," he agreed in a bored tone, attempting to hide the excitement of his fortunate group of cards. While arranging his line-ups, he added, "If I win, you have to buy me one thousand Jenny worth of candy."

"Candy?" she echoed, pursing her lips to quell a smile.

'_You really are a kid,_' she thought, amused.

"Okay," Misaki agreed, "but if I win… you have to carry me out of this hospital on your back."

Killua snorted.

"That's a pretty lame bet."

"…Says the boy who plays for candy?" she retaliated. "Besides, my condition is more humiliating, is it not?"

"It's a deal," he replied, not bothering to acknowledge her question.

"Alright then," the girl announced obligingly. "I'll even let you go first."

* * *

Killua shifted his body to and fro slightly to adjust Gon's weight on his back.

"You should feel proud," the girl told him, "that was a very close round."

The boy refused to respond to that. Despite the score landing at a tie, the final group revealed a two point advantage to Misaki. He would hold up his end of the gamble, but that certainly did not mean that he had to discuss his loss.

"Make sure you save enough energy to lift me tomorrow," she warned him with an unrestrained sort of playfulness in her voice that he had never heard her use before. "It'd be a pity if you used up all your muscle carrying Gon tonight."

"I'm sure I can carry a frail old lady like you," Killua argued.

Without looking back, he strode toward the door and turned the corner in to the hallway.

"Good night, Kil'," Misaki's voice called after him.

A smile crept on to his lips as he shuffled away. In his head, he replayed some of the scenes from the story she had been reading him, curious as to whether or not it was entirely a work of fiction for a young adult and a budding teenager to explore passionate feelings toward one another. Not that it was important of course, but the book was somehow growing more and more intriguing the further in to it that they read together.

* * *

Misaki rested her head against the stiff, hospital pillows and sighed lightly. Before drifting off, a thought surged through her head:

'_I think I'll buy him the candy, anyway._'


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five: Taiki

"I guess you changed your mind about Misaki-san, right Killua?" Gon whispered a little more teasingly than usual in to his friend's ear.

The statement reeled the slightly elder boy from his thoughts. In truth, his mind was a little less organized this day than it typically was most others. Misaki was a good thirty meters away from the boys now and amidst purchasing an assortment of winter gear for their travels at the check-out register. According to the information they'd received from Taiki (however reliable it was or was not), L.I.G.H.T. headquarters was located on the northern-most continent. This left Killua with a lot to consider- particularly as far as potential fatalities went- though every alternating minute the plot of the book he and the girl were reading together would manage to interrupt his train of thought.

It was during one of those moments, unfortunately, that Gon had broken in. Uncertain as to whether his comrade was purposely being implicitly sly or whether it was simply his imagination projecting the sensitive subject matter of the book in to his interpretation of the words, he casually placed his hands in to his pockets and yawned. There was no reason to assume that Gon had noticed something that the silver haired boy deemed so terribly subtle unless it was obviously confirmed.

"Don't _you_ like her?" he asked in a bored tone.

"Well sure," the island boy agreed, "but I was thinking maybe you like her a little more than I do."

"She's alright for an old hag," Killua said coolly, shrugging.

The tanned boy's face pursed mildly, and his eyes half closed. He was clearly fighting to stifle a grin from spreading across his features, and ultimately failed to hold back a small giggle while his eyes danced between Killua and Misaki.

"What?" the former assassin snapped awkwardly.

"You shouldn't keep secrets, Killua."

"What secrets?"

"I promise I won't laugh if you tell me the truth."

"Tell you _what_?"

Despite his initial attempt to appear calm, clueless, and collected, his eyes were narrowing almost as though he were daring his friend to voice the topic he already knew aloud.

"It's okay if you like Misaki-san."

"I don't!" he immediately insisted, forcing down his blush as much as humanly possible. Directly afterwards he realized how this sounded, and quickly worked to correct himself with: "I mean, I _do_… as a friend, you know? You said that you like her, too!"

"I never said anything about liking her more than a friend," Gon argued as though he had caught his friend in a lie.

"Idiot, that's what you're _trying_ to say!" Killua growled, capturing the boy in a headlock and rhythmically dragging his knuckles back and forth against the skull through the dark, spiky hair.

"Ow, that hurts! You don't need to get angry! It's not like I'm going to steal your girlfriend away…"

There was still somehow a level of innocence and sincerity to the boy's words.

Tightening the muscles on the arm which supported the neck, he protested (perhaps a bit too loudly), "I don't have a girlfriend!"

The boys wrestled about, all the while with Gon's head still trapped in place despite all his struggling (and subsequent giggling).

"Enough!" Misaki's voice sternly interjected.

The suddenness of her appearance before them surprised the two and found them tumbling to the floor, Gon collapsing in to Killua's lap with severely mussed hair.

"Come on; we have things to do," the girl announced before turning toward the exit to the store.

Unable to resist teasing his friend just one more time (considering how stubborn he thought he was being), Gon puckered his lips and made a couple fake kissy sounds in the air. Then he ran after Misaki, well aware that a fuming Killua was hot on his trail and prepared to claim his vengeance. Secretly, he quite enjoyed the times when he could.

'_That's why he's my best friend_,' he thought with a sideways smile.

* * *

"Why isn't he being contained?" the plum haired girl addressed to Haku firmly, gesturing with her head to Taiki.

As the four boarded the private airplane whose time and services they had recently rented, it was true that the (now undisguised) lanky and lightly auburn stubbled man was at liberty to move his limbs as he pleased. The long, cream and brown fur coat on his back hung low at the sleeves as he raised a cigarette to his lips for the third consecutive time since lighting up. Haku laughed nervously.

"Well, we've gotten to trust him somewhat over the span of the last month, you see."

Misaki let out such an utterly mirthless laugh that it nearly moved the bespectacled man to tears just to hear it.

"He could be leading us to our graves," she grumbled, "and still it is okay to give him the freedom he couldn't allow us?"

"It's okay, Misaki-san," Gon insisted as he appeared again at the entrance to the plane, "he wants to change. He's like Haku-san."

Meeting her stare to Killua's, she said (in a manner so deadpan one might almost believe she was serious), "That puts my mind at ease…"

"Begging your pardon, miss," Taiki's baritone voice called from behind, "but I just would like for you to understand something…"

* * *

Miles upon miles above the ground, the clouds looked almost misty and translucent through the windows at the travelers' sides. The seating arrangement was admittedly odd for such a small, private aircraft, with two short rows of seats that faced one another. Taiki was wedged between Haku and Killua (who had purposely claimed a chair opposite of Misaki rather than next to her), and Gon was positioned at the girl's right.

Taiki exhaled a long, melancholy breath before speaking.

"I was born to be a Conspiracy Hunter; to follow in my father's footsteps. From the very moment I passed the Hunter Exam when I was eighteen, he flew me to L.I.G.H.T. headquarters to fill the position that had opened up. It took up all my time, and so he even chose a wife for me before he passed away; Miu.

"We lived happily at first, but it was hard to keep everything a secret from her. One day she found out where I was disappearing to. I begged the 'Holy' members not to kill her, and they took pity and let her join, too. She proved herself quickly and climbed the ranks. Now she's a 'Holy' member herself, while I'm just a Premium member…"

"You say 'Holy' and 'Premium' member… I don't at all know what that means," Misaki said blankly, moving her eyes back and forth as though attempting to read the answer in his expression.

The man parted his lips to speak, but was interrupted by a wheezy cough. He pounded his chest with a closed fist until it settled.

"L.I.G.H.T. is composed of one hundred members," he explained uneasily. "No more, no less. This gives us enough people to effectively handle jobs and still have few enough to keep control of each member individually.

"The 'Holy' members are the leaders- they're numbered as one through ten on their identification badges. Anything that goes beyond the basic outline of a job has to be approved by their committee. The 'Premium' members are people with numbers eleven through twenty. We have the power to reprimand other members at the will of the 'Holy' ones, but cannot make rules or organization-changing decisions."

"Are all members' duties grouped by number?" Killua asked.

"Yes, to an extent," Taiki agreed, "but the 'Holy' and 'Premium' members are the only ones that hold any real authority."

He held his palm up to his mouth as though he might cough again, but no sound came. Two purple bagged, drooping eyes scanned the room before Taiki finally continued.

"I've spent so much of my life invested in to L.I.G.H.T. that I guess I lost that passion I used to hold so dear as a boy; to make friends and to…" He stopped to let out a few obscure strained, choking sounds that took the others a few moments to indentify as sobbing before he added, "…Gon and Haku… they… made me understand… how blind…"

"Why take us to your headquarters?" Killua demanded. "If you're willing to kill innocent people just for being around during your operations, why wouldn't they just kill you for revealing their base to us?"

Drawing in a deep, phlegm-filled and congested breath through his nostrils, Taiki whimpered, "I never said they wouldn't kill me. I'm just so grateful to have met people who believe I can be redeemed and are willing to offer their friendship to me in spite of all the things I've done."

Misaki stared quietly from Gon to Haku, but said nothing.

"Won't they just kill _us_ the second they know we're on to them?" Killua pressed on.

"Well, not if my plan works out," the man argued.

"Plan?" Gon and Killua asked together.

"Yes," Taiki began with a warm, inviting smile. "You see, the way members move up in the organization is when another member dies. This will leave new slots open, and since we just lost a few members not so long ago…" (Gon cringed and noticeably held back an immense pressure at this) "…I would like to suggest to the 'Holy' ones that you four join L.I.G.H.T. If you agree, I promise I will tell you _everything_ I know about us."

The four looked at each other, exchanging a multitude of emotions and expressions within their glances. It certainly _was_ something to consider with the utmost seriousness, after all.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six: LIGHT (pt 1)

While a definite majority favored Taiki's offer, although for the most part insincerely, there was one boy that did not bother wasting too much time of his time musing. Indeed it seemed advantageous to agree to join L.I.G.H.T. simply in order to obtain an uncensored layout of their plans and motivations. Still, the weight of their concession could potentially mean some sort of long-term contract of compliance, so it was hardly worth reacting to without the utmost of care and tact-

"No, I won't join," Gon announced adamantly with strong, focused eyes.

All eyes magnetized to the boy, stunned at his sudden resolve.

"Why not?" Taiki asked, frowning.

"L.I.G.H.T. handles its problems by killing innocent people, and I can't feel good about myself being a part of it. I can't join a group like that, Taiki-san. You could quit if you wanted and then join us instead."

Choking back her irritation at the notion of a probably fortunate opportunity being crushed inside the palm of a little boy- (who incidentally happened to be her target)- right before her eyes, Misaki cut in with: "Don't be too hasty."

"She's right," Taiki said (misunderstanding her statement) with sad, drooping eyes. "I can't quit L.I.G.H.T. because there is only one way out, and that means death. They are not about to have the governments' secrets revealed."

"I'm sure you wouldn't tell, would you, Taiki-san?"

"No, but that doesn't matter. In order to make sure, they would kill me first."

"That's terrible…" the boy grumbled through clenched teeth, rolling his hands in to tight fists.

"If we _did_ join," Killua broke in, "would there be any kind of initiation we'd have to go through?"

This was the question that not only played on the paler boy's mind, but also on that of the amber eyed girl. Hearing the basis of her own hindrance voiced aloud, Misaki cocked her head toward the 'Premium member' and tucked one of her deep purple bangs behind her ear with a curved hand. Taiki scratched his head through his short, auburn curls and nodded.

"A strand of your hair and a few drops of blood is the price of admission."

"It goes on file then, I presume?" Haku noted aloud.

"Right," Taiki agreed.

Gon glanced over at his friend, who was slumped low in to his seat with the heel of his hand holding up his head by the prominent bone of his cheek. He was confident that his friend would make the right choice.

"Sounds intriguing," Killua said. "I'll join."

"I second that," Misaki added, raising her palm in a nonchalant manner before lowering it again.

"I also would like to join," Haku insisted, though it was unclear whether or not his intentions matched that of the former two.

Taiki smile weakly before turning to Gon. The silver haired boy studied the look in his eyes. He still had not caught on to the basis of their acceptance, and he knew that if he did not set things straight soon, the opportunity might be lost…

"If you change your mind, Gon…"

"Gon, can I talk to you alone for a second?" Killua interrupted, reaching across for his comrade's wrist and dragging him to the rear of the plane.

After ten minutes of hardly audible murmuring and bickering, the boys returned to their seats.

"I changed my mind," Gon announced, squeezing his eyes closed as he flashed an awkwardly wide smile. "I'll join, too!"

* * *

As the pilot restarted the engine and guided the plane away over the icy shoreline, the feeling of isolation and unrequited commitment to their situation seemed to loom around their very bodies and minds. The landscape was blinding in its similarities; the sun half-shining over undisturbed, glistening snow and ice that appeared to extend on forever. Each step nearly sank its perpetrator knee-deep in to the white earth. Suffice to say it was a struggle to fight their way forth.

The wind was cruel and unforgiving, sweeping rolls of misty snow toward watery eyes and sending a chill through to the bone that refused to fade away, despite the group being practically mummified in layers upon layers of winter gear. Even Killua, who had endured torture through freezing before as a young child, had never felt such a terrible coldness.

"It's just around this next hill," Taiki's scarf-muffled voice shouted back over his shoulder after what felt like years of endless hiking.

As the group panted and grunted to clear the incline, a sudden change in scenery caught their straining eyes. A fairly large, robotic, and almost inverted ship-like structure was planted firmly in to the otherwise flat terrain. The base was composed of many intersecting trapezoids above and below a wide, spherical dome which was crafted to look as though it was encircled by an ominously dark, heavily tinted window.

Taiki placed his membership card in to a slot that had not been obviously visible amongst the many interlocking lines of metal. A low rumbling sound followed, like that of a blender being used on its lowest speed. Then the card was shot back out, and an oddly arched door appeared where there had not been one before.

"Welcome to L.I.G.H.T. headquarters," the auburn haired man announced passively, simultaneously sliding the scarf away from his mouth.

The hallways were uncomfortably snug, and in result each individual was forced to follow single-file behind the other. It was a curious set up; with no view of the outside at all despite the deceivably glass-like substance they had seen layered on to the exterior. They wondered seriously, though not all in the same instant, what would happen if someone else were approaching from the opposite direction, and whether or not there were separate hallways based on entering and exiting. Finally, the thin stream of walls gave way to a vast, spherical room which was divided into what could have easily accounted for a vast maze composed of hundreds of subsections.

"Wait here," Taiki said before disappearing behind a door labeled with a horizontal line of ten golden stars in the very center after about five minutes more of walking.

Killua braced himself, aware that it was quite possible for an ambush to be expectedly waiting for them. He did not trust Taiki and knew that he was probably lying, but something persistently encouraged him to proceed. He had already failed, by his standards, to protect Gon and (despite his difficultly in expressing it) Misaki earlier when L.I.G.H.T. had confronted them. He had forfeited before even attempting to concoct a plan of action. This time he would prove himself; he would defend Gon and show Misaki that he was capable of this level of responsibility. She would not simply think of him as a pompous fighter and a useless kid…

A blood-curdling scream sounded from within the room, clawing in to the ears of all those unfortunate enough to hear it, and then when it was through the door swung open as if by magic.

"Enter," called an elderly male's voice.

* * *

"Hands," the unmistakable voice of Miu, who had formerly been disguised as Mei, commanded as the four stepped inside.

The door closed behind them, and Haku nearly lost his balance as the floor (which was revealed to be a large conveyor belt) moved them in to the center of a circular table with a small break. Now in the center of the room, the four could see the ten 'Holy' members, whose faces were all cloaked inside of oversized hoods attached to long, flowing, tan robes. Other than the small, circular bulbs scattered here and there from above, very little light was emitted.

"I said show your hands," Miu repeated in a harsher tone than the last time.

"Where is Taiki-san?" Gon piped up, narrowing his eyes.

"Hands!" she shrieked hysterically.

"Number six," the elderly voice that had beckoned to them earlier reprimanded her calmly. From a single-sized podium built above the table at which the other members sat around, the man said to Gon, "You are standing on him."

Gon glanced down at his feet in the dark, and while there was no body to be found, his eyes eventually adjusted enough to see a generous pool of blood, organs, and the occasional protruding bone beneath them on the floor. A rusted orange scarf, soaked through with gore, was also present.

"Taiki-san…" he whispered, his body shaking at the realization. Slowly filling with rage, he murmured firmly, "How could you do this?"

"Gon," Killua called to him firmly, determined to keep the boy from acting out on his emotions.

Miu, in spite of her advantage of both cloaking her face and having never shown the four her actual appearance, revealed herself as she drew a large canon-like gun from beneath her robes. Her body trembled and her voice quivered as though she were holding back tears as she spoke.

"Show me your goddamn hands _now_ or I'll fucking shoot them off!"


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven: LIGHT (pt 2)

The verbal threat, as strong as its resolve, did not follow through as expected. Killua, unconsciously drawing one step nearer to his spiky haired friend, felt the rush of adrenaline as he braced himself for the anticipated onslaught. His mind whirled, both urging him to commit to his flight response and alternately determined to face his demons and fight off the attack as some form of redemption from his last failure.

Yet, it did not come. Instead, a meek whimpering sounded from the robes that concealed Miu, who was now holding a blood-drenched right sleeve in her left hand, and a soft, dull _thud_ echoed throughout the dark room. An exaggeratedly long stream of purple-red liquid had already reached the floor from the nearest exterior of the table where the assailant was present, and at the end of it was a disembodied hand still clutching the weapon. At the angle from which the boy studied it through his blue eyes, he noticed the bone that once adjoined the wrist to the hand was neatly severed and slightly overhanging the wet, fleshy tissues at the stubbed end. The cut was unarguably clean.

Immediately his eyes moved to Misaki. Had she done this? To his surprise, the girl was frozen in position, as if she'd been only just reaching for her weapon at the point when the attack had been executed. Someone had been quicker. Following the girl's amber gaze, he realized that she was inspecting the "elder" who had spoken earlier.

"Wha-?" Haku began, still disorientated from the action he had not yet been able to decipher the cause of.

"You're fast," Misaki said to the elder, her voice only variably crossing over from indifferent in to the realm of the mildly impressed.

"We did not ask you to come in here to make demands," he announced, causing Miu to hunch in to herself at the calculated harshness in his tone. "We've heard that you are interested in joining the ranks of the Conspiracy Hunters, and so we wish to share with you our purpose and our mission." There was a brief silence, and then he continued with: "Number Six will take care of all your questions."

Without further encouraging, Miu vaulted over the table and drew short, but quick strides towards the door. Her sleeve was now tied in a firm, but gory knot over the presumed stump of her wrist.

"Follow me," she commanded briskly.

* * *

Miu spoke no words for a lengthy period of time, silently ushering them through twist after turn of the nearly identical surroundings of the maze-like set up. Every so often she could be heard grinding her teeth fiercely, though it was unclear whether this was due to the pain in her partially severed arm or perhaps something altogether different. Finally she began to talk, though her tone was short and cold and she kept her face purposely turned away from the group even in spite of it being cloaked.

"As Conspiracy Hunters, we have an obligation to our employers to carry out our assigned jobs with extreme care and caution. Government ministries from all around the world hire us to cover up and solve scandals from simple assassinations and treason to natural disasters."

This immediately caught Haku's attention, and the man glanced up so quickly that he nearly launched his drooping glasses from his face.

"Natural disasters? You mean like the inactive volcanoes that have been suddenly erupting?"

Miu released a grunt so loaded and aggressive that the bespectacled man's shoulders arched inward in response.

"I would have said that if you hadn't gone interrupting," she snapped. "Yes, _obviously_ we've been swamped trying to both cover up and prevent the mass eruption."

"Then you're the ones that told everyone that the volcanoes weren't dangerous?" Gon asked, recalling Haku's story about the government officials' report on Tanzanite.

After an exasperated sigh, she admitted, "Of course. Obviously the world won't take the news that they're all pretty much _doomed_ gracefully."

"Doomed?" Killua echoed.

Stomping her foot once childishly as if to reprimand him for speaking, Miu then leaned in to a door that looked indistinguishably akin to all the others they had passed. She seemed to struggle for a moment before finally prying it open to reveal a massive projector screen on the far wall. The tiled floor was littered with people seated before desk-top monitors, hammering madly away in a constant rhythm at their keyboards. Not one so much as glanced away from their work stations as Miu lead them to the only computer that was set up facing opposite of the large screen at the very back of the room.

Retaining her right arm against her, Miu seemed to have a fair amount of difficulty controlling the cursor and typing letters and characters. This lead Killua to the realization that the hand she had lost must have indeed been her dominant one.

"Below the exact coordinates of the North Magnetic Pole, we found this…"

A strange chart appeared on the projector monitor, color coded and silhouetted. The four studied it quietly, but only Haku seemed completely confident as far as translating it.

"An under-water volcano," he explained to the others, "and a large one at that! Oh my, those equations can't possibly be in regards to force and magnitude, can they?"

"Yes," Miu practically spat, "they are. As you can see, there has been an unnaturally sudden increase in magnitude during that last eight years. At first no one thought too much about it, but then it turned out that this was no ordinary volcano. The eruptions, coupled with the location in the center of earth's gravity travelling through the magnetic poles have started causing reactions that no one was prepared for until recently."

"Then the earthquakes emitting from _this_ specific volcano are actually _causing_ the increase of activity in all the others?" Haku questioned.

"That's only the beginning," Miu explained mockingly; almost proudly. "Once enough pressure has built, there will be a final eruption, which right now based on statistics we've gathered judging by the rate of growth will probably cap at about a thirty or so in magnitude…"

Haku's thick frames slid all the way down and off his nose, landing against the toe of his black shoe. His hands trembled violently.

"A _thirty_?" he repeated; his voice uneasy and strained.

Gon's face was practically a blank mask as he rotated his head to the man who was now desperately reaching for his glasses through a blurry haze.

"Haku-san, is a thirty bad?" he asked slowly.

"_Bad_?" he practically shouted. "It's unheard of! A level thirty of magnitude is enough to adjust the shape and alter the lifespan of a _neutron star_!"

Miu cleared her throat exaggeratedly from within her hood before continuing.

"By then most, if not _all_ inactive volcanoes will probably be active again, and this final eruption will ripple out. It'll start travelling through the water, and the pressure will undoubtedly start a chain of eruptions until the land is overwhelmed with tsunamis. The seismic waves will then trigger the land volcanoes, which means-"

"If we're not killed by the tsunamis, there will be no escape from the lava, gases, and falling rocks from the explosions," Haku finished with a distinct awe in his voice as he returned his frames to his face as though in a trance.

"When exactly is this supposed to happen?" Misaki questioned the girl seriously.

Shrugging, Miu replied, "We're estimating in about three or four months at the soonest, depending on whether the magnitude of the eruptions stay within a similar rate of increase or not."

"Kukuru Mountain," Killua murmured, gaining the attention of the others, "is an inactive volcano…"

Gon's eyes widened in understanding and he rushed to his friend's side. The rest of the group did not comprehend the significance of his statement.

"What's your fucking point?" Miu hissed.

With fierce eyes, Gon turned to her and unapologetically scolded, "You shouldn't be so mean without knowing why someone is upset!"

"I shouldn't…! You want _me_ to….! _I_ should be…!" Miu started, choking back tears in between. Finally she turned on her heel and stomped toward the exit door, turning back only to callously announce, "You're shit, and I'll make sure that Number One does not accept you," before slamming the door viciously on its hinges.

A silence enveloped the room, interrupted only by the sounds of typing, which never hindered for even a second. Gon's face was still firm.

"She doesn't even care that someone else could be suffering," he grumbled quietly.

He stewed in his still swelling anger for a moment or two without distraction.

"We were probably the reason her husband was killed," Misaki suddenly said in a tone so casual that it did not at all match the severity of her words.

Haku shifted uncomfortably, constantly in at least slight motion at the feasibility in the statement. Killua's eyes met the girl's, though he couldn't read her expression. There was something there, but it was almost as though he was not learned enough yet to translate it. Gon was noticeably startled.

"What now?" Haku asked, opting to interrupt the awkward tension.

Misaki tilted her head at no one in particular.

"Apparently we've stumbled on to something bigger than ourselves…" She touched the second knuckle of her index finger to the curve below her bottom lip before nodding to Killua and suggesting, "First we should assess what the significance of Kukuru Mountain is. Then we should decide how to make it out of here alive."

Gon and Haku stared uneasily at Killua as he explained, "They didn't even mention initiation, so they must plan to kill us if we don't join."

"There isn't much time," Misaki insisted, approaching the silver haired boy and kneeling down to his eye level while taking his shoulders in to her palms.

Her touch caught him slightly off guard at first. Although it disappeared almost as suddenly as Killua had noticed it, there was a definite concern and potential for sympathy reflecting in her amber eyes.

"Tell me what is important about Kukuru Mountain."


	29. Ch Twenty-Eight: Touching on Symbiosis

As Misaki closed the door behind her, stepping out in to the seemingly endless stretch of hallway, her rational self obstinately fought against her decision to follow through. The arguments were tempting, but still the girl, as if on autopilot, flicked open her cellular phone and scrolled through the contact list until she located the entry titled "_Illumi Z_.". Though she hesitated slightly, her thumb did eventually press down on the select button as if it knew better all on its own.

'_This is ridiculous_!' she mentally scolded herself as she drew the receiver up to her ear. '_You have no obligation to warn him about anything!_ _You knew when you started this that that wasn't what this was about…_'

There was a light tremor in her wrist that was almost distracting as the robotic hum of the line echoed in her head; once, twice, three times. Perhaps she was over-stepping her bounds…

"You've done it then?"

His voice was as devoid of emotion as it had ever been. Still, the suddenness of his words startled her some as she had not expected such a response to interrupt the battle of her onward raging inner conflict.

Nearly forgetting the topic of his inquiry, Misaki first half-puckered her lips as if to say, '_What_?' and then shook her head before verbally admitting, "No… not exactly."

Silence claimed the line, but the girl could not bring herself to tell him what she had intended to about Kukuru Mountain. Of course, she had not even suspected that the Zoldycks lived in such a place before Killua had confirmed it. Apparently it was even a tourist attraction, according to the boy, but Misaki had never bothered to search for personal details about Illumi. He was simply an acquaintance whom she reaped mutual, physical benefits from… in her opinion at least.

"I'm working. What is it that you want?" he asked hollowly.

'_What __**do**__ I want_?' she mused hopelessly.

"I… There… has been a minor set back," she stumbled, trying her hardest to keep her voice steady. "Once it's dealt with… I'll complete your contract right away."

This time, the silence on the line held the implication of suspicion. She wasn't particularly certain whether it should have been possible for her to be convinced of such a thing merely through the quiet over a telephone connection, but somehow she was positive of it.

"See to it that you do."

Without warning, the dial tone sounded a long, low droning sound in her ear following a light click. The thought that she might have angered him actually bothered her some. While her chest felt tight with mild apprehension, a rush of excitement pumped through to her arteries quickly enough to dizzy her for a moment.

_"Sleep with one eye open…" _

A chill trickled down her skin from the inside out, leaving in its wake a trail of tiny, erect hairs. It had been so long since… and yet, didn't she feel that she owed it to him? Wasn't that the basis of it all?

* * *

_Referring to thirteen year old Misaki Tanoh as a "small scale" Contract Hunter at the time was an acute overstatement. Her cliental consisted primarily of little more than a handful of regulars, with the occasional offer to pay generously for assassination services from men who dropped no name as far as where or from whom they had discovered her. She was fairly skeptical about accepting a hit on another person, though she had managed to separate from that mortal coil that had once pained her with guilt. In truth, she remembered the ebony haired boy who had threatened her that one eve, and she feared the vague but distinct sentiment of his words._

_In the same instant, there was something dreadfully exciting about the prospect of meeting with him again, even if it did have the possibility to arouse a deadly anger in him. She tried to rationalize this feeling with all the naïve experience of a young teenager, chalking it up to the rarity of finding another working assassin who was also quite young, but the truth was that Misaki had acquired a small taste of real danger directed toward her person and she was very much intrigued by it. To kill her he would have no choice but to confront her and it was because of this that she did in fact always recklessly accept every single contract of assassination no matter the conditions._

_It was springtime when she finally re-encountered the boy with the dark liquored eyes, and ironically it was amidst a simple escort contract. Misaki had never been a female escort before, and suffice to say never would be at any other point again in her future, either. However, on the night in question, the girl with the plum, pixie-styled haircut had blissfully thrown caution to the wind in order to earn a hefty reward worth three and a half times the amount of her last contract._

_The employer, who referred to himself only as "Murata", was apparently known for his impartial attitude towards age by friends and lawmen alike. Still, Misaki had hardly so much as glanced over such details, reasoning that she had often been sought out as a hiree for non-law-abiding citizens of the underground repeatedly in the past. Without a worry beyond the challenge of applying a convincing layer of cosmetics to mature the years in her face to keep up legal appearances, the girl approached her job headlong._

_The evening was nothing particularly spectacular, despite it having been Misaki's first debut at a prominently adult, high status party. A red carpet greeted them at the door of a fifty story building and in to a massive, golden-hued ballroom; a view that the girl never forgot. Yet, other than the feeling of astonishment at the interactive peek in to a world which she had never before been close enough to truly touch, everything further was only sub-par. The people were well-dressed and boring, the music was unfamiliar and redundant, and the client Misaki was expected to link arms with for a good three or four hours had foul breath that managed to detract from everything else that might have been even the slightest bit awe-inspiring._

_The clock on the wall read one forty-two when Murata finally ushered the girl towards the shining steel elevator doors. The sensation of rising suddenly caused her heart to palpitate erratically for a few moments until they had reached the correct floor: the twenty-first._

_"Twenty one is legal, get it?" Murata laughed drunkenly as he guided her down the hallway with a hand on the small of her back._

_Misaki flashed a fragile smile and nodded politely to feign understanding, though in truth she did not get the joke at all. Not that it mattered; she was fortunately not being paid to solve the Rubik's Cube of a puzzle that was known as implicit humor._

_As Murata finally slipped a card key in to the slot on a door marked "2107" (after a few useless tries with alcohol-decreased motor skills), Misaki smoothly strode over to the dining table, which thankfully was directly in her line of sight. She seated herself and reached for a pad of paper and a pen and began hastily scribbling down simple mathematical equations to represent hours and rate of service. As usual, she worked with due diligence, never wishing to overcharge a client through mere carelessness of calculation, and so it was not until she felt a pair of rough hands massaging pleadingly at her shoulder blades that she looked up from her ground-work._

_She turned enough to view his eyes fully, though she could not form the words to explain her discomfort at this advance. Instead she simply hoped he would understand her silent protest and stop once he realized that she was not enjoying it or willing to reciprocate. With a sideways grin, he struggled to point with a wavering finger at the piece of paper with the inked characters scrawled across it._

_"You forgot the bonus," he teased, slurring noticeably when he spoke._

_"Bonus?" she managed to repeat with an excessively dry mouth, completely understanding what was happening now._

_The hand that remained on her upper back made an attempt to scoop the thin strap of her recently rented, emerald green evening gown down and off her shoulder. Fortunately, Misaki had been seen the possibility of this coming now, and spun on to her feet to face her client. She wished that her face had been scowling and cruel, but in reality she knew that her expression was as dumbfounded as she felt. Her heart prepared the adrenaline for her._

_"I'm thirteen..." she said quite a lot less firmly than she had intended._

_Shrugging, he declared, "It's okay, darlin'; I'm the only one here that'll enforce bed time."_

_He cackled for a moment at his own joke. This gave Misaki the opportunity she needed to prepare her aura for Ten. She simply hoped that he was not well practiced in Hatsu, or else…_

_…Honestly, she could not even bring herself to fully acknowledge the specifics of the situation; only the reactions to the implications._

_Murata drew one step nearer. He too shrouded his body with Ten._

_Misaki retreated one step back. She clenched her fists and began to focus aura in to her dominant knuckles._

_One step forward. He smiled and manipulated his aura in a seventy-thirty split between his left arm and the remainder of his body._

_One step back. She braced herself, knowing full well that her next receding step would position her too near to the wall to execute either a respectable offensive or defensive maneuver._

_One step forward. He eyed her with a fire that threw off her center for just a moment._

_In an instant, Murata threw himself forth in an attempt to take advantage of the girl's momentary vulnerability. Much to Misaki's surprise however, he never did make contact. The body slumped against the floor, eyes wide and staring and petrified. It wasn't for a few more seconds that she noticed the generous array of needles which pierced the back of the skull._

_'_That boy from before…_'_

_Immediately Misaki fell in to a defensive fighter stance, fists blocking her vitals, as she had not opted to pack her weapon for this contract. It was a mistake that the girl vowed never to repeat._

_As if he did not see her at all, the boy stepped forth from the shadows, his midnight hair swaying a good three inches above the elbows, and carelessly kicked over the body with his boot._

_"He's dead," Misaki confirmed, though she was unsure herself whether she had actually said it for his benefit._

_He strolled toward the window, his footfalls stunningly inaudible to her. It took her a moment to register the scene unfolding before her eyes as he leapt on to the window sill with animal grace; he was leaving._

_"Thank you!" she called to his back slightly louder than necessary, the desperation interwoven with small, silken strands in to her voice._

_He turned, arms folded neatly across his chest and posture erect._

_Tilting his head curiously as his black gaze absorbed the sight of her; he asked blankly, "What for?"_

_She was at a loss for words, having really only spoken in the first place in order to stall him. This made her feel incredibly foolish, especially considering that she could not piece together a viable reason to want to hinder his leaving in the first place. Hadn't he threatened her life during their last meeting?_

_Misaki simply opted for the simplest response, which was: "For saving me."_

_His expression remained frozen, and after a moment he monotonously replied, "That's presumptuous."_

_She knew he had not in fact saved her, and had assumed from the moment she had recognized his presence that the boy must have acquired Murata as a target. Still, his blatant honesty played on her nerves somehow as he disappeared yet again through the window. Finding herself exhausted from the events of her evening, Misaki turned to the door to leave her frustrations in the dust where they belonged._

_"By the way…" his empty voice announced unexpectedly enough to make her jolt at the sound._

_She spun to face the direction of the sound, and was legitimately amazed to be greeted by the sight of him squatted haphazardly upon the dining table she had been seated at earlier, which was a good fifteen feet from the window he had just launched himself out of._

_'_He's fast_,' she thought, astonished, staring from the window he had exited seconds prior to his current post._

_She watched him pull a small, cellular phone from his inside coat pocket._

_"This is yours," he said flatly as he tossed it in her direction._

_Misaki needed both hands to catch it, though when she glanced up again, he was gone. She was too surprised to even question how he'd managed to obtain it in the first place._

_The delay on the phone kept the blue back-light glowing, indicating that the device had just been opened or used within the last twenty seconds. Hesitantly, she flipped it open and scanned through the settings. Eventually she found the only thing that had altered; an additional contact listing._

_'_Is this your name_?' she pondered in awe while studying the new entry, making a point of stepping a few feet around the corpse of her assailant as she made her way to the exit._

_"Illumi…" she murmured curiously as the door weighted itself closed behind her._

* * *

Over a month had past, and the first Illumi had heard from Misaki since their last encounter was this disappointing phone call. Something about it was not quite right. She was not the type to offer a myriad of excuses in the way of completing a contract, which was why he had chosen her for the task initially. Additionally, he had been so very confident that he had molded her back in to shape the last he had seen and consequently ravished her. She'd seemed so honestly committed to obeying the conditions of his contract back then.

Yet, her tone of voice had been unsettling when she had spoken to him, and he had immediately picked up on the difference from her usual, professional tone. She was _startled_, and he knew the sound of fear better than most anyone else. Thus he was able to conclude that Misaki had not been lying when she had insisted that a set back had occurred… but what in the world was the cause of that set back?

The neutral expression on his lips gave way to a small, rare frown. This was no good. He needed to set things right again, or else Gon would never be eliminated and Killua would not return home again. Rising to his feet, Illumi headed toward his father's room to request that his jobs be suspended for a brief period of time.

'_I'll have to go there and solve this myself_,' he decided.

* * *

**A/N:**** Just wanted to take an opportunity to thank everyone for the reviews, as well as those who have favorited and/or are following. I really do appreciate it! :D**

**Also, I wanted to let you guys know that I'm going camping for a week, so I won't be able to update until I get back.**


	30. Chapter Twenty-Nine: Musing and Surprise

The pale, adolescent boy, complete with his arms folded across his chest in an effortless air of aloofness, was leaned with a partially arched back against the curve of the dimly lit wall. Around him L.I.G.H.T. members continued to ignore his presence and likewise those of Gon and Haku, and hammered away at their keyboards without a single entity bothering to so much as glance down at even their own busy fingers even once. His blue eyes were downcast and thoughtful, occasionally straying to the door which Misaki had exited through with the promise that she would return momentarily following his (fairly vague) explanation of Kukuru Mountain being the home residence of his family.

Perhaps she had already composed a plot to escape, and was putting her thoughts in to premeditated actions. At least this was what he wanted to believe, even while a part of him whispered, none-too-gracefully, that the girl was as secretive and distant as she was helpful and close. There was something unsaid between them, and unfortunately he knew that it was beyond simply the… energized _tension_ of sorts… that had been developing as of late.

Feeling more anxious than his appearance would dare to let on, his gaze wandered to his friend, who was cupping his tanned chin in curled fingers and lost in whatever he was currently musing. He was shocked and almost appalled with himself in remembrance of his earlier debate with the spiky haired boy, trying desperately to argue that in order to have any chance at all of uncovering the secret behind L.I.G.H.T. it was necessary to pretend for the time being to be interested in joining. Still, Gon had fought whole-heartedly that he was fixed in his position to decline Taiki's offer while still on the plane.

It was then that Killua had admitted what he still was only half certain of this very moment, surprising both himself and Gon. His cheeks heated even now, his collection of words echoing in his mind and his comrade's wide eyes and gaping lips lingering just out of reach from his vision:

"You're right!" he'd snapped as though it were still a confrontation rather than an admission. "I do like Misaki, okay? Just say you'll join L.I.G.H.T. and I'll even tell _her_ that! That's what you want, isn't it?"

He wouldn't tell her, he'd decided immediately after, even if Gon accepted his comment; and of course he had. It was foolish to entertain these ridiculous notions of attraction, which he could not himself think of the word for. Why had she insisted on reading him a book about the passionate and taboo relationship between an adult and a girl that was his own age? Had she intended to seduce him with the idea, to possess his mind with the possibility that she might engage in such an act _with him_?

The problem was that she _had _succeeded in planting the possibility in his head, whether intentional or not. At the same instant that his rationality served to remind him of the dire nature of the mission now before them, about L.I.G.H.T. and the eruptions and ultimately the impending apocalypse, he continued to feel bonded to something about her that he could not particularly pinpoint. Was this mindless young lust, like the kind that was foreshadowed in the novel to eventually lead to disaster, or something more? Should he even care if it was?

The door creaked open and Misaki stepped inside again, her eyes glazed over amidst her own musings and her expression uncomfortably grim with the occasional twitch of the lip. He made certain to avoid her stare, so focused on the act of dropping his chin lower in order to conceal the blush that was spreading further out from his cheeks that he was unaware of the awkward stiffness in his posture.

"Couldn't we just destroy the volcano that is causing all the problems?" Gon suddenly asked Haku, and Killua was inwardly grateful for the distraction.

Pushing the bridge of his glasses back up his nose with a lone finger, Haku answered, "It's not so simple, Gon-kun. Destroying the formation of the volcano won't stop the reactions that cause the eruptions and subsequent earthquakes. Those reactions can't be stopped so simply."

"You've fought many enemies in the past; I'm sure," Misaki piped in, her voice low and somber, "but nothing like this. It's not as easy as defeating an opponent in a battle. This is nature we're fighting, and even its weaknesses won't be so obvious or else the issue would have been long resolved by now."

"What we need to do," Haku explained in a whisper while tapping the right arm of his spectacles, "is research. Then we can concoct a viable plan and practice it on a lesser threat in order to survey the results and go from there."

"We can't do that here," Killua interjected in a huskier tone than usual, and he cleared his throat mildly before continuing. "We need to come up with a way to escape."

"Then we can go back to the Volcanic Islands!" Gon chimed in, and Haku and Killua simultaneously dived forth to cover his mouth while eyeing the room for any sign of apparent eavesdropping from the L.I.G.H.T. members at the computers.

"We'd best be off, then," Misaki insisted, turning back toward the door.

"You have a plan?" Killua asked.

"Sometimes, Kil', you just have to 'do' and not think so much," she replied, leaving the three in considerable discomfort.

Nevertheless, they followed her through the exit and in to the hallway maze.

Turning to Haku, she asked, "You've been planting them in order to escape, I assume?"

Nodding, Haku responded, "Of course I have. Follow me." Then he claimed the lead position, activating his En to locate the cloaked nen devices he had preemptively laid along the perimeter of the hallway when the four had been following Miu earlier.

Bothered by Misaki's suggestion of simply acting without thinking- something he had been once lectured about by the plum haired girl and therefore assumed she did not promote- Killua reached out and touched a shaky hand to the crook of her elbow. Although the thick coat covered her flesh, there was a somewhat pleasant roll of acid and butterflies that turned over and over in his stomach at the contact.

With a face that was forced in to a serious expression, he said to her once she looked in to his eyes in response, "If it's like before…"

"…You'll never forgive me," she finished for him tonelessly with a lazy half-nod and the slightest of smiles. "Yes, I remember, Kil'."

She lightly patted his fingers with the pads of her own as if to assure and comfort him and it was only then that he realized that he had not yet removed his hand from her arm. Quickly retracting his limbs in slight embarrassment, he stared at his tingling knuckles as though there was something on them now that only he could see. He remembered, despite borrowing this untimely moment to do such, the feeling of his body pressed against Misaki's when she'd coiled him firmly in her arm atop Tanzanite in preparation for their parachute-like descent. The scent of her skin seeped in to his memory, and the awkwardness of his body's reaction to the friction created by the sensation of her against him. Perhaps it was something like the awakening of the younger character's sensual feelings about her elder lover in the book...

He hastily shoved his hand back in to his pocket when he caught Gon watching him with a warm smile, almost as if to encourage him to explore his ridiculous thoughts further. Using his shoulders, he raised the sides of the coat collar and shrunk his neck down toward his collarbone to conceal the majority of his face from his beaming friend.

'_Of all the times to be thinking of something so gross and dumb, why do I have to do it now?_' he scolded himself in frustration, swallowing the lump in his throat as best as possible as he narrowed his eyes.

* * *

Despite having learned that L.I.G.H.T. was composed of one hundred members, the four passed freely through the many spirals and turns of the hallway without even once encountering another person. This immediately captured Killua's suspicion, and he kept his eyes darting and alert and his _Ten_ prepared for any sudden defensive maneuvers he might need to execute with little warning.

'_They would never just let us walk right out of here_,' he mused sternly, '_but even if we did get out, how would we leave this continent without a plane or a boat_?'

These thoughts were interrupted as they approached the entrance door, where a hooded man, presumably the elder called "Number One", and Miu stood waiting. The cloaked man held one wrist inside his opposite palm, and the one-handed girl had her arms folded over her chest and a wicked grin spread across her lips.

"Going somewhere?" she asked maliciously.

"In fact, we are," Misaki replied as though she hadn't noticed the ironic cruelty with which Miu spoke.

"We're not joining you," Gon jumped in adamantly, staring in to the patch of darkness where Number One's face would be rather than Miu's.

Killua, in spite of his friend having behaved so brazenly on many past occasions, was taken slightly aback even still. Just as the boy's name was forming on his lips, Gon spoke again, this time to Miu.

"I'm sorry if we were the reason Taiki-san was killed. The way you can just kill someone that is part of your group is one of the main reasons I can't join." He turned to the elder and said, "Taiki-san did what you said. He believed in us and wanted to bring us to you because he believed in everyone here, too. What you did… is unforgiveable!"

Miu's face had wrinkled painfully at the first mention of Taiki, though by the end of the speech she had managed to contort her expression until it once again portrayed that calculated coldness she had shown prior.

"Taiki knew what this was," she spat. "We _all _know the rules, and he broke them; it was his own fault."

Gon stepped forward and stared the opposing girl straight in the eye.

"He was your husband," he persisted firmly. "You should care more that he's gone!"

"Shut up!" Miu cried out exasperatedly, tears spilling seemingly out of no where from the corner of her eyes. "Idiot! You don't know shit about Taiki or me or my fucking problems! You don't know fucking shit!"

"Number Six," the elder said in a tone of strict authority, causing the girl to shudder and lower her eyes to the floor, sniffling quietly every now and then with her shoulders shaking with each muted sob.

After a moment of silence, the man stepped forth and tilted his head downward as though to presumably stare in to Gon's determined eyes. The silent gaze was held for several long minutes before the man spoke again.

"Number Six?"

In a hushed whisper, she said, "Yes, sir?"

"Give these people the key to aircraft C."

Killua let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in disbelief, and Miu jolted in shock.

"N-Number One?" she stammered.

"Number Six," he repeated, "the key to aircraft C. Hand it to one of these people."

With shaking hands, Miu reached in to her robe pocket and pulled out an oversized ring of dozens upon dozens of labeled keys. She sorted through them for a long while, back-tracking over the same ones every so often, before slipping a single, golden key from the ring. She tossed it carelessly in to the group, and Gon missed it but managed to retrieve it from the floor next to him.

"Thank you," he said to the elder, bowing low.

The man made no visible reaction, and Gon's eyes still told the story of his distaste for him despite his politeness upon receiving the key.

Turning once more to Miu, he said softly, "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I can tell now that you're upset about Taiki. I was wrong about that."

He bowed low to her as well before making a motion with his hand to wave the remaining three along. They followed in silence, and Killua couldn't help but smile even through his impression that it was likely just a trap, as he was always amazed at Gon's ability to sway others with his sincerity.

It was of course one of the many things he admired about the boy, who had saved him from the darkness more times than he could ever properly thank him for, even without really knowing.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks again to those who have reviewed, favorited, and are following :)**

**Also, in response to BunnyRules' review, I just wanted to clarify that I have now italicized the flashbacks in both the previous chapter _and_ the ones in "Chapter Eighteen: Intro To Symbiosis". Yes, they _are_ flashbacks and Misaki's current age has not yet been stated. I hope this clears up any confusion.**


	31. Chapter Thirty: Awkward Air Ride

"You could talk to Misaki-san while we're waiting."

Gon's cheerful voice jerked Killua almost too violently from his concerned thoughts about the possible trap they were currently sitting in. The aircraft was in motion now, with Haku steering despite his admitted uncertainty in doing so. It was true that Misaki was probably more approachable now than ever, seated with her feet up on the seat opposite of her at the distant window with her "fingerless fishnet" gloved hands in her lap. It was also true that there might not be much of a range of opportunity to speak to her about topics beyond the eruption crisis once they arrived back at the Volcanic Islands, via the drastic time limit they were racing.

Killua glanced up more anxiously at his friend than he had intended to. Unfortunately, Gon seemed to notice his trauma, and his own expression sunk low in to a frown.

"Are you afraid, Killua?" he asked with dual confusion and honest concern.

"No way!" the former assassin protested automatically and defensively without thought.

"Then what's the matter?"

Killua swallowed, though his mouth was drying. His reflection stared back at him in his friend's worried, dark eyes, and he was mortified to see a very nervous imitation indeed. In truth, it bothered him even more to know that even just the suggestion of his so-called "feelings" for the adult girl were enough to crack his outer shell of collectedness now. Was this proof of his fondness or simply fear of its potential?

"I'm thinking that this aircraft is probably a trap," he admitted, though he was quite sure it was a lie as far as his present condition.

Was it a lie? Perhaps that had been the real reason for his distress, and it was much more logical, too. He_ had _been thinking about it just before Gon had approached him, after all…

"Do you really think so?"

Killua fought down a smile through the shock. The subject was changing!

Making absolutely certain that he did not release his sigh of relief too obviously, the blue eyed boy said, "We have to be careful when it comes to L.I.G.H.T.; we know their secrets now and it doesn't make sense that they would just let us go around as we please without a reason."

Gon let out a small humming sound in thought before replying, "Miu-san wouldn't do that to us."

Amidst exhaling, Killua's breath caught in his throat at the statement and he began coughing vigorously for a few moments. When he could finally inhale again, he stared with frustrated disbelief at his comrade.

"Miu-_san_?" he asked, and he waited until Gon nodded in response before he continued. "Gon, Miu hates our guts. She probably wouldn't hesitate to _personally_ rig the aircraft for us."

Gon shook his head.

"Miu-san is just upset that her husband is dead. She doesn't really hate us."

Groaning, Killua growled, "She blames _us_ for his death!"

"…But she told us that it was his _own_ fault, which means that she _doesn't_ think it was ours!" Gon argued.

"That was just something she _said_!"

"Oh, like the way some people just _say_ they aren't afraid to talk to Misaki but they really are?" the spiky haired boy debated.

The silver haired boy stole a quick glance at the girl, startled that she might have overheard. They _were_ loudly bantering, how could she not? Yet, to his extreme reprieve, she was fixated on her cell phone screen and tapping at the buttons with her thumbs.

"T-That's too specific!" he hissed at Gon.

Folding his arms stubbornly over his chest, the tanned boy stated, "Well you said that if I pretended to be interested in joining L.I.G.H.T. that you would tell her the truth."

He'd backed himself in to a corner now, and he knew it. The boy struggled to form a feasible line that might convince his friend that this was all unnecessary, at least at the moment, but Gon had already seen through him. Killua disliked his fear being so obviously projected, even to his closest friend.

At a loss, he finally whispered (nearly too quiet to hear), "She's an adult; she wouldn't be interested in a kid like me…"

Putting a comforting hand on Killua's back, Gon smiled and said, "Some grown ups are. You won't know unless you tell her how you feel, and you'll feel better when you do no matter what happens."

_No matter what happens_…

It held the implication of possible failure, and therefore humiliation. His heart did a hammer-pound in protest.

"Gon, I don't think-" Killua attempted.

"I'll go visit Haku-san so you two can have some time alone to talk," Gon interrupted heartily over his shoulder as he faced the door to the control room.

"Gon…"

"Good luck, Killua!"

* * *

'_How do I let him talk me in to these things_?'

With his hands in his pockets, Killua was finally drawing exaggeratedly slow steps toward the plum haired girl. He was grateful that her eyes were still glued to the cellular device, seemingly oblivious to his ultimate intent.

He had spent ten minutes in full (following his friend's exit) simply debating his position in his own mind. Eventually the boy came to the conclusion that if he did not do this now, Gon would only continue to insist he do it later. Yes, it was because of Gon that he really needed follow through now. That was a wonderful safeguard and he chose whole-heartedly to believe it, even repeating it in his head a few dozen times until it felt as natural as breathing.

As he entered an approximate two meter radius from Misaki, he decided that her acute interest in her phone was now more of an annoyance than a saving grace. She appeared to be completely unknowing of his presence, and given her skills and experience he was almost certain she must be intentionally ignoring him. He shuffled his feet awkwardly as he reached the beginning of the row of seats which she was seated at the opposite end of.

"_Sometimes, Kil', you just have to 'do' and not think so much_…"

"Erm…"

He hadn't meant to let the sound escape him, but before he could retract it Misaki's amber eyes were on him, scanning him with a (thankfully) unthreatening sort of questioning.

Immediately he felt foolish; he was too proud and emotionally reserved even to admit to Gon his importance to him, and here he was expected to tell Misaki, whom he hadn't even vocally acknowledged as a _friend_, that he felt something _more_ for her…

'_Why do I let him talk me in to these things_!" his mind screeched again.

"H-Hi, Misaki," Killua greeted her, and then mentally cursed himself for his almost immediate lack of aloofness.

"Kil'," she said back, nodding to him.

Her eyes turned back to her cell for a few long moments, and then suddenly she seemed to realize that he remained where he was and that he was not finished speaking. She snapped the phone shut and knitted her fingers, tilting her head at him.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

Her tone was soft and inviting enough that he was willing to push forth.

"Well, not really…" he murmured.

She raised a recently groomed brow at his response, and Killua's eyes darted around as though the pair of them could not agree on what to focus on.

"I mean you can't really _help_ me with anything," he re-stated slowly, quite pleased to hear his voice now sounding much more casual.

The brow returned to its post.

"You just fancied a chat then?" she asked.

She drew her knees up to her chest and pulled her already removed coat over her exposed shoulders without bothering to slip the arms in to the sleeves.

"Sure," he agreed, taking the seat two away from her in the same row.

'_I sound like an idiot_,' he mentally scolded himself.

"Something is troubling you," Misaki announced almost more to herself than to him.

"Me?" he asked too loudly for his liking.

Flashing a small smile she had clearly initially intended to stifle, she explained, "You're the only other person in the room, Kil'. There's only you and I here."

_Only you and I_…

"Yeah..."

There was a silence that lasted perhaps a few minutes, but to Killua it translated as several strings of eternity. Daring to peek at the girl finally, he noticed that she had slung her thumb between the bandana and her neck and was gently swinging her hand back and forth through the black material.

"That book…" he mumbled. When she looked over to him he added, "I really like it."

"I'm glad."

I'm_ glad_? Was she glad he liked it because she liked _him_ the way the adult liked the young teenager in it?

"Do… _you_ like it?"

"Of course," she agreed. "It's very poetic."

He frowned, unsure of what that meant in terms of the two of them personally.

"It's interesting that the man likes the younger girl that way," he said, his cheeks flushing at the thought that maybe he was being too obvious.

"She likes him, too," Misaki reminded him, and his heart did another hammer-pound at her words.

"She does? ...She _does_," he corrected himself more assuredly.

"I can read more of it to you later tonight if you like."

"That'd be cool," he replied, trying to sound considerably calmer than he felt while simultaneously slipping a hand on to the back of his neck.

The aircraft lurched suddenly a few consecutive times. Shrugging off the coat and pushing off from her knees, Misaki rose to her feet.

"I have to check on Haku-san," she grumbled. "I think his glasses might have fallen off again."

She withdrew one step from her seat before hastily turning back and digging through her inside coat pocket.

"I almost forgot," she mumbled, retrieving a brown paper bag. Tossing it to Killua she called, "Here."

He caught it with ease and she exited the room without even the smallest of explanations. Curious, he separated the stapled sides from one another, and found himself gazing in to a colorful array of multiple types of chocolates and candies. He stared in to the sugary haven, and continued to do so even as he heard Gon's footsteps dashing across the floor to him.

"How did it go?" the tanned boy asked with a grin.

"She gave me candy," he said blankly, his eyes still locked in to the bag.

"Wow, she _must_ like you," Gon gasped as he caught a glimpse himself.

"Maybe not," he half disagreed, brushing it off.

"She gave you a present," Gon explained, taking a green, sugary gumball between his thumb and index finger and inspecting it with one eye closed.

"So?"

"So when did she buy it?"

Killua shrugged.

"See?" Gon insisted excitedly. "She was thinking about you when you weren't even around and bought you a gift!"

Shrugging it off once more, Killua replied in a bored tone, "I guess."

Inside however, the boy was becoming rather convinced that his friend, who had far more experience in such things than he did, was right.

His stomach repeated the oddly pleasant acidic and butterfly combination that it had done earlier. In his secret optimism he popped a cherry flavored gummy candy passed his lips and savored the taste on his tongue for slightly longer than usual, having almost completely forgotten now about his theory of L.I.G.H.T.'s ambush from before.

* * *

Misaki stared miserably down at her unresponsive phone screen. She had been relentlessly texting Illumi for hours in an attempt to rectify her persistent conscience, which was plaguing her for failing to properly warn him about the current danger of Kukuru Mountain's potential to erupt. He had not responded at all, which bothered her quite a lot. Was he working, or simply ignoring her?

She sighed as a few loose pieces of hair flopped in to her line of vision, wrenching her plum hair from its black, elastic holder. It fell to her collarbone in thick strands, and she hastily ran her fingers through it before pocketing the phone and refashioning the ponytail again.

'_I could really use a good lay right now, Illumi_…' she whispered inwardly, bitterly, as she opted to borrow another few moments to sulk at her ill fortune as far as contacting the Zoldyck went.


	32. Chapter Thirty-One: The Plan

The now fainter, heterogeneous combination of spices greeted the four as they reentered Haku's residence. They took little notice of it however, as they were far more distracted by the sights and sounds of society around them at the Volcanic Islands' city, which were full and carefree despite the deadly eruption of Tanzanite prior. Many questions filled their minds in regard to the legitimacy of this, and whether or not the people were entirely real or perhaps integrated with fakes planted by L.I.G.H.T. to keep up appearances.

Haku gestured chivalrously toward the doorway, allowing the three younger travelers to enter first, and then turned in a redundant attempt to pull closed the front door, (which was still missing from its hinges due to Misaki having kicked it off upon the initial return from Tanzanite). He waved a dismissive hand at the empty frame, and then joined the others in the kitchen, crunching a fist-sized beetle that had taken up residence since his leaving under the sole of his shoe and twisting at the toe for a moment.

"So here's what I was thinking," he began when he realized that the remaining three were looking to him to speak first. After a moment, he almost chuckled and sighed, "It's honestly hopeless."

The faces of the two boys fell, and a single corner of Misaki's lips twitched.

"There must be _some_ way to stop a volcano from erupting," Gon pressed.

Haku shook his head sullenly.

"No, there are really none."

"Do we need to _stop_ the eruption?" Killua asked, half in thought. He unwrapped an orange, bunny-shaped candy on a stick (which he'd retrieved from the paper bag in his pocket) and pressed it under his tongue.

"Huh?" Gon blurted out.

"I mean, if we can manage to just make it so the eruption isn't as powerful, wouldn't that be enough?"

Everyone exchanged glances in silence.

"There are ways…" Haku murmured quietly, recapturing the full attention of the others once again, "…to _slow_ lava flow."

"Would slowing it be enough?" the plum haired girl questioned carefully.

Haku removed his glasses, held the lenses up to the light with squinting eyes, and then returned them to his face.

"No," he admitted, "I don't think it would. Although, there _are_ effective methods used to redirect lava to stop it from destroying cities."

Gon perked up.

"How?"

"Well, pouring cold water in to running lava can slow it down, and blowing holes in the earth's crust can cause the lava to flow from the holes rather than burst out in a rush from the peak of the volcano."

"Can we do that somehow?" Gon almost pleaded.

Haku smiled sadly and replied, "The problem is that these techniques are practiced on _subaerial _eruptions… volcanoes that are _above_ ground. The volcano that is causing all the problems is under water, which is a whole different can of worms."

"Isn't there some way we could set up all the above ground volcanoes so that they don't react badly when the big eruption happens?" Gon suggested.

In an unreadable tone, Misaki asked, "Gon, do you know how many volcanoes are above ground in the world?"

The boy shook his head.

"More than fifteen hundred," Haku answered hollowly.

"More than _fifteen hundred_," the girl repeated to him to add to the impact. "L.I.G.H.T. expects that it's possible for this eruption to happen in _three_ months. For the sake of our survival, let's assume that is our maximum time limit. We can't go around the world and try to slow that many eruptions; not to mention the fact that not all of those fifteen hundred volcanoes will erupt with _lava_. Remember Tanzanite?"

"Oh, pardon me," Haku interjected, "but fifteen hundred is the number of above ground volcanoes that were active _before_ all this started."

"So where does that put us now?" Killua inquired.

Haku clucked his tongue.

"There are probably hundreds of thousands of volcanoes that were inactive between land and water."

Killua's eyes widened and he nearly choked on his lollipop, wrenching it by the stick from his mouth in order to cough freely. Gon patted his back to assist him when he realized that his wheezing and hacking was not fleeting.

"_That_ many?" the boy gasped between coughs.

"I'm afraid so."

"This _is_ hopeless," Killua mumbled to himself as his fit finally slowed to a halt.

"It's _not_ hopeless," Gon argued. "There's got to be a way to save everyone, we just haven't thought of it yet!"

Haku smiled slightly at the spiky haired boy. He truly admired his spirit, though he found himself feeling unworthy in his uselessness to concoct a plan to compliment it.

"Maybe…" Misaki whispered, and the table's occupants rotated instantly to face her.

"Maybe what, Misaki-san?"

She drummed her nails from her smallest finger to her index finger in a fluent wave several times, her amber eyes clouded in thought. Judging by her expression, which had manipulated itself in to one of notable distaste; it was a painful one, indeed.

"Maybe," she repeated, lowering her voice further, "Gon is… right..."

"I am?" the boy asked curiously, excited but confused.

"He is?" Killua questioned in disbelief.

"Maybe… we can survive as long as we have enough places that aren't affected by the eruptions."

"Ah!" Killua grunted in understanding. "So you're saying we don't need to stop _all_ of the eruptions, just enough of them that there will be areas worldwide that can hold the amount of people while the rest of them are happening."

"I thought of that?" Gon questioned, stunned.

"Wait a minute," Haku interrupted seriously. "In theory that sounds great, Misaki-chan, but there are some huge holes in that plan that I think we need to address."

The bespectacled man stood as if to gather more attention if it were possible, and forcibly shoved his sliding frames back up to the bridge of his nose before leaning forth and planting his palms on the table.

"The methods I mentioned to slow the lava flow of an eruption are assuming the eruption is under regular circumstances. The tragedy we're _trying_ to prevent is happening because there is a volcano located on the North Pole that is under water and going to result in earthquakes that will register at a magnitude of _thirty_; enough to alter the lifespan of a _neutron star_. We can't be so quick to assume that an eruption like that will only cause typical eruptions in the other volcanoes that it will set off. It's quite possible that a magnitude level like that might completely wipe out the earth even if we spend three whole months preparing 'safe zones'!"

Gon rose from his seat and strolled over to Haku. He gently placed a tanned hand on the side of his arm.

When the man met his gaze, he said softly but sternly, "…But, Haku-san, we have to _try_."

"Gon-kun…" he mumbled in a voice that seemed to obviously restrain the full intensity of his doubt.

"Still cowardly, Haku-san," Misaki teased from across the table, a small but smug smirk playing on her mouth. After a moment she added, "What is there to lose?"

"Either we spend three months trying and succeed," Killua rationalized, "or we spend three months trying and die anyway. If we don't do anything, we're guaranteed to die; all of us."

"There's the possibility that we might come up with a better plan while we're working, too," she reminded him.

"Come on, Haku-san," Gon urged, "please help us."

The dark haired man cringed, still unconvinced.

"You know a lot about volcanoes that the rest of us don't," Killua told him quietly, discomforted to admit so despite the truth in it.

"It would be a real asset to us if you were involved," Misaki assured him, nodding.

A roll of tears collected in Haku's dark eyes, and he turned down his chin as if to disguise them. He removed his glasses and pinched the corners with his thumb and index finger in an attempt to be inconspicuous about his obvious weeping.

"You… the _two_ of you…" he whispered shakily, nodding his head at Killua and Misaki without actually looking at them right away, "…_want_ me to join you? Do you really?"

Exchanging a hesitant and awkward glance, the two bowed their heads slightly and then lifted them once more. Haku smiled weakly and borrowed a moment to replace his glasses.

"Alright then!" he announced, fueled by a confidence that had not surfaced before. He straightened up his posture and narrowed his eyes in a sleek show of determination as he explained, "Here's what we have to do: Grab your gear, because we're headed to the southern Volcanic Islands to visit the volcano, Variscite! Prepare for testing phase one!"


	33. Chapter Thirty-Two: Success and Failure

"Jan… Ken… Rock!"

As the enhanced fist made contact with the compacted rock atop the volcano, the impact was enough to puncture the mountain with an irreparable hole in the earth's crust. A wild recoil of dust and loose sediment created a smokescreen effect that blinded everyone within an eight meter radius; and Variscite itself was ten. Haku coughed in to the crook of his elbow to clear his irritated lungs, and once the tan fog had settled Misaki could be seen for the first time actually wearing her black bandana over her nose and mouth.

"Idiot!" Killua hollered to his friend, rushing up to meet him. "You're supposed to warn us first!"

"But Killua," Gon protested, "I _did_."

"Yelling out your attack isn't good enough!"

"That's lots of time!" the tanned boy argued. "We have to make a lot of holes and it'll take too long to warn you extra that often!"

"It would not! It'd only take a few seconds."

"If I have to do it lots of times, it'll add up to minutes!"

"You should be using the _tools_ with us to make spots for the explosives, anyway; _not_ your ability!"

"This is good practice, though," Gon grinned.

"You're going to tire yourself out."

"No way! I feel better than ever!"

The dark haired boy stood and flexed his right arm, using his left hand to explore it himself. A moment later, he collapsed on to his bottom, legs extended out before him and panting a bit.

"I knew it," Killua gloated, cupping the back of his skull with interlaced fingers.

"I'm just taking a break since everyone is mad that it gets so dusty!" Gon debated.

The two heedlessly continued their loud but non-aggressive bantering. Misaki smiled from behind the shelter of her bandana as she applied _Shu_ to her silvery pick and pierced several small slits in to Variscite. She was admittedly surprised that the boys' playfulness amidst a serious mission bothered her quite a lot less than it had upon first meeting them.

'_You're getting soft, Misaki_,' she mentally warned herself, sighing aloud at the thought.

* * *

"Marvelous work, everyone!" Haku shouted in triumph as the deep holes brimmed with lava.

True to his word, the molten liquid overflowed and moved slowly and in a more controlled manner as Variscite emitted another of its predictably small, magmatic eruptions. Apparently this was a common and consistent occurrence at this particular volcano, and was pegged as an ideal testing point for their first attempt using the equipment and techniques. A wave of pride and relief rushed over the group to see the fruits of their labor having reigned successful, despite the simplicity of it comparative to that which would likely be required in lieu of the major eruption.

"Lunch?" the man suggested with uncharacteristically bold, bright eyes.

* * *

"…Berraudney?" Killua guessed.

"Born and raised," Misaki agreed, sipping at the bottle of red wine Haku had kindly packed and left for her.

The two had taken to asking questions to one another before the controlled fire among the small, almost out of place assortment of trees just west of Variscite's base. Haku and Gon had volunteered to scavenge the "forest" for food as opposed to heading all the way back home immediately following the test-run at Variscite.

Killua nodded at her response and reached out to receive the bottle that he likely would have turned away had Gon been present.

'_What he doesn't know can't hurt him_,' he'd decided when Misaki had offered him a drink.

"Okay, your turn to ask," he announced, taking a generous swig of the potent, bitter liquid.

The girl twisted her lips slightly in thought. After a moment she announced, "Okay, I've got one," before stretching out her legs from the fallen log on which the two were currently seated. "What drew you to Gon in the first place?"

The alcohol was definitely taking at least mild effect on Misaki, who would not have dared to pose such an inquiry while wholly sober of mind. She was honestly curious though, particularly since she was ultimately there because of her contract to dispose of the boy, who seemed to be Killua's polar opposite.

Killua, who was not feeling any symptoms of drunkenness, flushed bright red at the question.

"_He_ sort of was drawn to _me_, I guess," he mumbled awkwardly, turning his face away from her amber stare.

"Have I asked something I oughtn't have?"

"It's not that," he answered immediately. He hesitated a moment, then said in a much quieter voice, "He saved me, that's all."

"From the fiery pits of hell?" she teased, gesturing for the bottle back.

He smirked and handed it to her.

"Sort of, yeah." He said nothing for a while, and then let out a small sigh and added, "He's my first friend, actually… I always grew up around servants and I was just trained to kill. I never thought I would…"

The girl cringed, if only slightly. This boy was obviously deeply attached to her target, enough so that he could not express it fully. She downed three long gulps consecutively in order to turn her odd feeling of guilt in to a contentedly numb haze.

"Your turn," she finally insisted, and he was grateful for the allowance.

"Well, you know my childhood was all training to be an assassin," he explained, "so what was yours like?"

Misaki's eyes turned to the fire, which danced in her lessening pupils. Her lips parted slightly and froze in the position, mildly agape. The silver haired boy decided that the alcohol was beginning to slow her linguistic skills and thought processes, and waited patiently (albeit secretly somewhat anxiously) for her response. However, in reality this was not the cause of the girl's silence, but rather was the inward debate as to whether or not she ought to tell him the truth.

"I played in the forest," she announced hesitantly, "and enjoyed fighting off large bugs with a stick."

Killua cupped his mouth to suppress a laugh, not wishing to offend her at his reaction. Her voice was so monotonous now that he was hard pressed to decode how serious she was or was not intending to be.

"Sometimes my mother would take me to the city and I'd help her carry groceries home, or my father would call for me to bundle up firewood for our stove… I really liked picking wild raspberries and travelling through the forests."

"Gon grew up in the forest, too," Killua chimed in, hoping that she would not be insulted by his interruption.

Instead, she simply ignored it, secretly not wishing to bond any part of herself too personally to the boy she would later be indebted to destroy.

"What did your parents do?" he finally asked.

"I think it would be my turn to ask a question, would it not?"

"Oh, yeah…"

"It's fine," she murmured, smirking. "I was just teasing." She coiled her fingers tightly around the neck of the bottle and took an ironically minuscule sip. "They skinned animals and sold pelts for money, but before that… they were bandits."

Killua pivoted to face her suddenly. His eyes hastily scanned the bandana around her neck, which he now connected with ease to those which the bandits in the Berraudney forest they had encountered wore.

"Bandits?"

Nodding lazily, she said in a hollow, detached tone, "They gave up that lifestyle after I was born… but some things can't be shaken so easily."

"Misaki…" Killua whispered, absentmindedly grasping her wrist.

_I never saw them again after that…_

Was this what had happened to her? Had she run away to gain a profit for her household, and then discovered her parents had become bandits once again? Had the bandits killed them, perhaps? Was that why she had the bandana now?

She was staring at him, her eyelids frozen at half mass.

Could he possibly sympathize with only his speculations? Could he sympathize with the truth even if he knew it? Was he capable?

He was looking at her, too. Her reflection was wavering in his eyes amongst the ripple of flames. He leaned in, not thinking, just doing.

_Sometimes, Kil', you just have to 'do' and not think so much_…

He could smell the alcohol on her breath and the flowery scent of her hair. He was _achingly_ close now… So… close… as… to… actually…

"Killua! Misaki-san!" Gon's voice boomed through the trees suddenly as twigs snapped below his marching, booted feet. "We're back!"

As if struck by lightning, Misaki violently retracted from Killua and dropped the bottle of wine in the dirt before them. She dived down to grab it, and unfortunately Killua shared this idea. The two smacked foreheads with enough momentum to send them flying partially backwards.

"Shit!" the girl cursed so aggressively under her breath that the boy's blue eyes actually widened with disbelief.

Killua then turned his gaze toward Gon, who had emerged with Haku through the bushes, each with an armful of nuts and berries. Gon shrugged and smiled apologetically at his friend's sideways glare, which told him that his good intentions to warn him of their return so as not to catch them off guard had done the opposite and brutally killed the moment.

"Hey, who's your friend?" Gon asked suddenly, glancing to Misaki's free side with a look of sheer confusion.

The two turned instinctively to see a man of perhaps thirty with shaggy brown hair that touched to his ears and styled stubble staring down at them through grey-blue eyes. He wore a full sleeved, red shirt with the collar unrolled and placed deliberately up over the bulk of his neck, and an off-white vest over top. His blue jeans had absent, frayed knees. In his hand was the bottle of red wine Misaki had dropped, and he held it out to her wordlessly with the neck in his closed fist.

"Misaki," he said in a low voice, eyeing the girl.

Killua watched, prepared and in a defensive position, as Misaki's eyes met the man's. They stared silently at one another for a painfully long period of time, and the longer they continued to do so the more it bothered the ex assassin. Did she really know this guy? Why were they just staring at each other? She had admittedly just stared at _him_ for a while before they had almost… So did she… with _this_ stupid guy…?

The pale boy was suspicious and felt a preoccupied loathing toward him without needing to know anything about who he was. He struggled to think of an appropriate line to interrupt their little moment with, determined to sever any possibility of a connection between them. He had worked too hard to be tossed aside for _this_ random moron.

…and meanwhile Misaki was shocked and appalled, after being ignored so effortlessly, that she was staring in to the face of yet another of her deceased victims. It was unbelievable to her that she was being so obviously monitored and practically _mocked_ by this new and terribly untimely alias of Illumi's.


	34. Chapter Thirty-Three: Competition

Eternities seemed to pass, one after another in long, consecutive stretches, with Killua all too aware of the close quarters Misaki and this stranger were with eyes never straying from the other. Something burned furiously within the pale boy, whose blue eyes grew colder, and he finally swooped forth and snatched the bottle of wine from the man's outstretched hand and firmly positioned himself between the two. This did manage to successfully break the man's concentration on the girl, and he stared blankly down at the adolescent boy while studying his defensive posture as if to evaluate it.

"Here, Misaki," Killua murmured to the girl with a relative softness to his voice while keeping his sights prominently on the male. He leaned in to her slightly in order to place the bottle in her palm.

She grasped it, but did not look away from her original distraction. It was an unreadable expression which she donned, causing an agonizing lurch within the suspicious boy. What on earth was she thinking now, while staring so intently at this idiot who apparently knew her name?

"Who are you, anyway?" the silver haired boy bitterly asked up toward his stubbled face.

Cocking his head at the former assassin, he simply replied, "Fukui, Yuto."

Grunting, Killua growled, "Well, what the hell do you want?"

Misaki was smiling now, if only slightly, at 'Yuto'. She lowered her chin and glanced up at him through her dark lashes.

"I was sent by Satotz-san to assist Misaki with her mission," he lied, putting to use the information he had once obtained from the girl.

Gon shifted from somewhere behind him, but Killua jumped in before his friend could respond with any sort of enthusiasm.

"Do you know this old man?" he asked the girl.

She was silent for a moment or two, as if considering the question carefully and then finally answered with a serious lack of spirit, "We go way back."

"That's great!" Gon chimed in too quickly for his comrade to best him this time. "We need all the help we can get to slow the eruptions!"

"Gon!" Killua called to him, his voice tinted with disbelief and reprimand.

"We _do_ need to start building our group exponentially in order to successfully meet our quota," Haku agreed, stepping forth with his hand extended.

'Yuto' stared at the open palm but made no motion to shake it.

"Kamaka, Haku," he introduced himself, retracting his hand and opting for a bow instead.

Cheerily mimicking his bespectacled friend, the tanned boy grinned and greeted, "Gon Freecss!"

The blue eyed boy kept his hardened stare on the man, even while abandoning his more obvious defensive stance to slip his hands in to his pockets.

"…And this is Killua!" the dark haired boy added, gesturing toward his closest companion.

"Why?"

Everyone turned to view the paler boy, who was flashing a dangerous glare at 'Yuto'. The man simply cocked his head in the opposite direction.

"Why would Satotz send you now?"

"It is not my place to question my client."

"I suppose it's been decided then, hasn't it?" Misaki interrupted before further protest was possible, her voice stripped and barren of traceable emotion.

* * *

A firm jab with the heel of an expertly angled hand against the ball joint of Illumi's left shoulder rotated his upper body enough to face a severely unimpressed looking Misaki. She had only just lead him in away from the others, and already her brows were arched inward and sunken low over her eyelids, the amber in her irises glowing dangerously under the light of the moon and stars.

"How long have you been following me?"

Her voice was fairly controlled, though there was a definite element of disdain lying dormant in her words. Indeed, she was notably upset.

"That's no concern of yours," Illumi replied monotonously.

His eyes and face, even while manipulated to almost perfectly resemble that of another, revealed nothing to the girl now. She folded her arms, pivoting her face to eye him sideways and pursed her lips.

"I do _not_ need a supervisor," she debated flatly.

"You are not authorized to make that decision."

She nearly widened her eyes at this but caught herself right away, admittedly stunned at his offhandedness toward her ability to judge and carry through a job.

'_He doesn't trust me at all_,' she inwardly acknowledged, scanning his face for any changes. '_Though_ _I suppose I always knew that was so._'

"We're in the middle of preventing the end of humanity," she explained a little bit coldly. "I assure you that I'll dispose of the boy as soon as this set back has been corrected. I'm good to my word; I _never_ accept a contract I won't finish."

"The contract _will_ be finished," he agreed, drawing a step nearer to the girl and arranging his hands above her right elbow and the small of her back.

He slipped his left palm lower, down her thigh, and heaved her body in to him, securing her knee to his hip. For the first time, she resisted his advance.

"This is not a _game_, Illumi," she warned in a deceivably indifferent tone, turning her face sharply away from his.

The action of the plum haired girl, avoiding his attempt to sway and silence her, coupled with her words caught the disguised Zoldyck off guard for a moment. He stared quietly at her, recognizing the twinkling in her averted stare as that of spite and suppressed irritation. It was then that he realized that she was apparently _offended_ by his presence here, and pondered it for a few seconds to analyze the situation at hand.

Was she so proud that she could not fathom his need to check in on her? If that was the case, why would she postpone her contract, which should in reality take no more than a moment's time to carry out? Gon was no match for her, he knew, and especially not if she simply attacked him without initiating a battle. It wasn't her style to necessarily insist upon a fair fight in order to eliminate a target, and he had seen as much from her with his own eyes time and time again, so what was the delay? How could she be so bothered by his intervention?

There was only one answer he could reasonably consider; she had become personally attached to the boy, and was now questioning her ability to dispose of him. This thought disgusted him, as he had considered Misaki to be a fairly capable assassin, with no friends to distract her and her eyes always seemingly locked on to the job. He wondered how deep rooted the affection someone like her could possibly develop for another person, and wondered seriously what he could do to break it.

After all, there was _always_ a way to break a person one way or another, was there not?

Although clearly she was displeased with him momentarily, and first he would have to rectify that situation in order to do so. Maybe he would have to tread new territory in order to seduce her in to obeying him this time. She hadn't ever been angry with him before, he didn't think.

His grip on her arm tightened just enough to convince her to regain eye contact once more.

"We'll go out," he said, supposing it was an easy way to engage a female.

Her face scrunched slightly, brows knitting in confusion.

"What?" she inquired slowly, not understanding.

"We'll go out," he repeated, as though that should clear it up.

Shaking her head in hesitant back and forth motions, she questioned, "We'll go out _where_?"

Illumi blinked through his reshaped eyes.

"Where ever you want to go out."

The plum haired girl borrowed about a minute to decode the statement, eyes dancing to and fro as though she were reading it as a written sentence in mid-air several times. Her features began to smooth out gradually as she came closer to comprehending the words.

"Oh," she mumbled went she realized the purpose of his sentiment. After a second her eyes widened and she echoed herself in a more shocked sort of tone, "_Oh_!"

Uncertain as to whether he had overstepped his bounds, Illumi asked, "Is that bad?"

"Well, no… I suppose it isn't," Misaki replied. "You do mean 'go out' on a _date_, don't you?"

"Of course."

'_Of course_?' she thought with mild sarcasm. '_He couldn't have been __**less**__ obvious about it…_'

"It's just…" she let out a breath, running her tongue behind her front teeth. "…Well, most people _ask_ someone out on a date, they don't just decide it on their own for both people..."

Illumi blinked again, unable to see the difference.

Opting to hold face long enough to at least persuade her, he rephrased the earlier statement as more of an offer:

"Do you want to go out?"

"You've never asked me that before," the girl mentioned suspiciously.

He shrugged.

"I guess we _could_," she whispered more to herself than to him, "since I'd like to have at least gone out on one _real_ date in my life in case I never get another chance…"

Her eyes met his again, unreadable.

"Alright," she agreed without enthusiasm.

Inside, he felt a swelling of power. Again, he had won. All he had left to do was seal the deal, and he was quite certain he knew the ideal method of doing so.

He leaned his lips in to hers, and she made no move to draw away this time, as though she were lulled in to a convenient sort of trance. However, just before Illumi actually touched his mouth to her, he sensed a projectile coming from behind. In a swift motion, Misaki (who must have noticed it as well) reached around his back and caught it.

She held up the coconut between them, studying it.

* * *

Naturally Killua had followed Misaki and the man, using _Zetsu_ immediately upon their excusing themselves and departing from the group. He did not trust Yuto to join with them, and secretly he did not at all have faith in his being alone with the girl. He might try to cause harm to her, or _maybe_ worse even, try to…

His 'worst case scenario' seemed to come alive before his eyes as he watched Yuto pull Misaki's knee up to his hip. The veins in his temples throbbed violently, and he clenched his teeth.

'_I knew it_,' he thought sourly to himself, simultaneously reaching for a dislodged coconut that was lying, abandoned, on the ground at his feet. '_Dirty old geezer…_'

As it happened, it was unnecessary for him to launch his pseudo-weapon since Misaki purposely turned away from the man. He felt a bit foolish as he lowered his hand and his insides performed relieved and bliss-filled flips against the interior of his chest. The girl had _rejected_ this moron, this _Yuto_! Could the scene have possibly played out any _better_?

'_I can't hear what they're saying_,' the pale boy thought to himself, scanning the brush for a path to the tree that stood just beyond Misaki's post. '_I need to get closer_.'

He kept the coconut clasped in his hand (just in case) as he took slow, deliberate steps toward his intended destination, applying the utmost care to avoid rustling the leaves of the bushes as he proceeded. The two resumed their initial and (fortunately) distanced conversing for a short while. He was fairly satisfied with this, at least until Yuto began to lower his face in toward the girl, whose eyes were softly closing as if she were oh-so-willing _receive_ the…

Without a second thought, Killua heaved the fruit at Yuto, first concentrating nen in to his fist in hopes that the contact would ultimately cause more severe damage, and then rushed to the treetop while the two were distracted. To his surprise, Misaki was holding the coconut in her hand the next that he glanced at the two. Even more shocking was that the girl's eyes did not scan the area that the attack had originated from, and instead she simply tilted back her head and stared directly above her in to Killua's eyes.

'_She probably can't really see me_,' he told himself mentally as Yuto followed suit and appeared to eye his whereabouts also. '_It's too dark_…'

"Kil'?" she called out in mild awe. "What on earth are you doing up there?"

His cheeks burned in the darkness before he could even attempt to stop them, and his felt a light dizziness swimming through his head.

"I… was uh…"

He scrambled to think of a viable excuse, but it felt as though his thoughts were being weighted down and severely slowed.

Grasping a hasty handful of nuts from the branches, he managed to blurt out, "…Grabbing more food."

He desperately held out his palm as though the three or so acorns he had plucked were a convincing argument.

Misaki smiled at him, and unfortunately this only caused his cheeks to go from heated to fevered.

"Why don't you come down here, and we'll go back?" she suggested.

"Yeah," he agreed, attempting to brush of the awkwardness as he leapt down to ground level and thrusted his hands in to his pockets. Shrugging coolly, he added, "Let's go."

* * *

Misaki turned back in to the trees, and much to Illumi's surprise, his younger brother cut deliberately in front of his alias as he attempted to join the girl's side. Killua glanced back at him over his shoulder, shooting an unmistakably dangerous glare of warning as he subconsciously leaned closer to the plum haired girl while he walked.

'_Interesting_…' the elder boy thought, realizing that perhaps he now had two situations to monitor here rather than one.


	35. Chapter Thirty-Four:Long Way To Midnight

The long, exaggerated shadows that the pinks and lavenders of sunset so willingly cast across the Volcanic Islands had since swallowed the flora and fauna below in a swirl of dusk. The quarter moon, though its emission of light seemed fleeting, was enough to make the world outside of Haku's residence appear four or five shades lighter than the contrast of sheer darkness within the shelter. This was easily discernible when glancing out through the gaping hole where the living room door had not yet been repaired, and it was here that Illumi (still disguised as Yuto Fukui) had been granted to sleep… surrounded by the majority of the other remaining group members.

It seemed that Haku was not one to often accept company at his home, for there were only two bedrooms; one that was still hopelessly cluttered from his previous avalanche of devices. Apparently he was a gentleman of sorts however, since he had been all too quick to suggest that Misaki, as the only girl, should be able to take rest in private. Of course she had agreed, and of course Illumi found this very fortunate.

Rising on to silent feet, he easily passed a snoring Haku and a peacefully dreaming Gon, whose eyelids were twitching in the shadows to indicate his REM cycle at work. He had made it to the opening of the small hallway just beyond, when a voice pierced through the general silence.

"Going somewhere?"

He turned to face the voice, which he immediately recognized as his younger brother's. Killua was leaning, aloof, against the opposite side of the hallway wall. His eyes were striking in the dark, even while his arms were folded in a loose and bored appearance over his chest.

Illumi's first thought had been that perhaps Killua had recently exited Misaki's quarters (which was a worrying notion to him on its own whether it was fact or fiction), though he dismissed the idea. No, he would have heard the door… but that meant that the only other option was…

…Had Killua really been standing here all night, _waiting_ for him to make a move?

The younger boy narrowed his eyes further, and then gestured with a nod back the way Illumi had come.

"I'm pretty sure _your_ bed is over _there_," he added firmly. "…Unless there was some _other_ reason you would want to be coming this way?"

This was no good at all. Illumi had taught Killua to be a great assassin, not a pitiful, self-hired "bodyguard" to some girl that should not even matter. She _didn't_ matter… and yet here he was, face to proxy-face with the heir to his family name and almost being interrogated. Admittedly he may have at least found the boy's overwhelming suspicion worth of acknowledgement if it was not currently being used to his own disadvantage.

"Misaki…" Illumi said to his brother in his slightly pitch-altered 'Yuto' voice, "You like this girl, do you?"

"What's it to you?"

"It's obvious."

Killua turned his gaze downcast for a moment.

"What do _you_ want with her, anyway?" the blue eyed boy asked indignantly.

"It's none of your concern."

"It _is_ if you're sneaking in to her room in the middle of the night!" Killua snapped louder than necessary.

Haku's snore caught mid-way in the living room, though he turned over and continued sleeping.

"She might want me to do that."

"Not likely," Killua snorted.

"Is that so?"

"She seemed pretty annoyed by your sad little attempt back in the forest," the boy replied with a wicked grin.

"Did that please you, to see that?"

"It doesn't even matter. The point is she _doesn't like _you."

"You don't believe that, though."

Turning his glare icier, Killua argued, "I _do_."

"If that were true," he explained, placing his hand on his sibling's shoulder , "you wouldn't have felt the need to try and stop us… then _and_ now."

Killua squirmed slightly under his grasp, and the scent of fear wafted distinctly through the air. Fear for the strangely threatened and dominated sensation that the boy felt while being touched by this "stranger". Fear for the words that were spoken, and were possibly true. Fear for the upperhand that his competition, who was now not simply some empty shell of a man with no real attributes to convince Killua to see him as both human and real, was rapidly gaining.

Another win.

Illumi turned toward the living room.

"Good night, Kil'," 'Yuto' called back to the boy when he was satisfied that his words had efficiently possessed the boy's mind and caused his confidence in Misaki's relationship with him, however innocent or explicit it might have been, to falter.

* * *

"You certainly _have_ been working a lot lately," Misaki's voice greeted the eldest Zoldyck sibling as he swung his leg over the window sill from outside. "Have you forgotten that you can use the door here?"

Illumi opted to simply ignore her joke, and instead regained focus on Killua's reactions in the hallway. Misaki could not know that he was protecting her, at least under his own adolescent definition of such. She had probably, he knew, found herself attached to her victim, and so reasonably she could become persuaded by Killua, too…

He shrugged, though as his eyes met the girl he understood that it had been a wasted effort, as her own glance was cast between the pages of a book. In spite of this, she had already stripped down to her underwear from upon the mattress, a mismatching navy blue bra and pale grey panties. Her back was propped up against an almost humorously tall tower of pillows, and her hair was released from its usual ponytail and instead hung in thick, deep purple strands to her collarbone. She licked her lips absentmindedly as she turned the page.

"You were waiting for me?" he asked, perhaps more to ensure that it was indeed for _him_ she had been waiting.

"Shh."

Her eyes continued to scan the inked sentences.

"You spoke to me first."

"Yes, and you ignored me," she replied as though she were not particularly interested in her own words, still reading. "I only have three pages left to finish this chapter, so keep your shirt on." A half smile formed on her lips, and she added, "…Or, you know… _don't _keep it on… Either way I'll be right with you."

Illumi seated himself on the side of the single bed, peering over to ensure that the curtains were closed before rolling down the shirt collar and removing handfuls of pins from his neck, setting them on the night table afterwards. He supposed it did not matter too much whether or not he left them in, but there was something terribly exciting in the thought that Killua wanted this girl so badly, and meanwhile _he_ could simply waltz right in- his brother, his trainer- and _have_ her himself. He could have her how ever he pleased, and in ways that Killua could not even begin to imagine…

In a single, swift motion, Illumi peeled both the shirt and the vest from his limbs, and then immediately got to work on the pants.

"Are you fini-?"

"Almost."

His fingers brushed her hair away from her neck, replacing it with his mouth. Misaki tried to ignore him, but he was pleased to see her failing as a wavering breath escaped her.

"One more page…" she begged, in truth that was exactly how he translated her tone.

_Begging_.

It was too tempting now… He could _own_ her now if he liked… She was _begging _for his approval, and maybe she would not even be capable of denying any request he made. He certainly hoped that was the case, and if not…

"Please, Illumi…"

"No. Now."

…If not, he could find a way…

"Just _one_ more…"

"No…"

…a way to _really_ claim her…

"…_Now_."

…to teach Killua a much deserved lesson.

* * *

**A/N: ****I just wanted to take another opportunity to thank everyone for the encouraging reviews! It means a lot to me!**


	36. Chapter Thirty-Five: Haku Kamaka

"You're all by yourself _again_, Gon-kun?"

The island boy glanced down from his post atop a long, sturdy tree branch to see Haku stepping through the bushes below. He smiled at the man and slid down the trunk with ease to join him.

"It's okay, I was just thinking."

"Do you think better at high elevations?" the man joked.

"Nah, I just feel at home in the forest, that's all."

Haku nodded.

"Your friend is busy _today_, too?"

The tanned boy shrugged and smiled. The bespectacled man however, frowned.

"I couldn't help but notice that Killua has been supposedly 'busy' every day after we've finished working since Yuto arrived here last week…" the man announced cautiously. He crouched down to Gon's level and took his shoulders in his hands as he said, "Listen, Gon-kun; I know that you're trying to be nice by letting your friend have some space to chase Misaki around, but…"

His eyes grew less confident, and they dropped gracelessly to the ground. Haku's lips tightened.

"What is it, Haku-san?" Gon pressed, curious and mildly alarmed.

The adult ran nervous fingers through his own dark hair and sighed.

"Misaki is not the type of girl you keep. Do you understand?"

The boy did _not_ understand, and Haku had known that he would not even as he had been amidst breathing life in to the words. He studied Gon's knitted brows and slightly inward-creased forehead as he attempted very seriously to create any sort of sense of the statement.

"Do you mean," he tried, his voice still confused and disbelieving, "that you're supposed to throw her away?"

"No!" Haku immediately protested, a disgruntled noise escaping him as he considered how to restate his point. "Okay, it's not so much that she's not the type of girl that you keep, as it is that she's not the kind of girl that you _run_ _to_."

Unfortunately, this seemed to do little more than further confuse the boy, who placed his chin in to his palm as though it might assist him in decoding the sentence.

'_I wish I could just tell you_,' Haku thought sadly, '_but I can't do that. What would you think of __**me**__ if I did?_'

Standing once more, the man patted Gon's back.

"I know this sounds phony," he admitted, "but the fact is that your friend needs to let go of this obvious infatuation he's developed for Misaki because she's not a good girl to get close to in such a manner. I can't tell you why, and that probably isn't helping my case, but please… believe what I tell you."

Without missing a beat, he replied, "I believe you, Haku-san."

"You _do_?"

"Of course; you're my friend, so I believe you."

Pressing his fingertips beneath his frames and against the inner corners of his eyes, Haku fought to suppress the tears that threatened to spill.

'_A friend… I've never really had a friend before now…_'

* * *

_Misaki's first ever business trip to the Volcanic Islands occurred on the eve of her fourteenth birthday. She had challenged the Hunter Exam just over two months prior and had thankfully passed, which allowed her exponentially cheaper transportation than she had ever thought imaginable. The exam was like nothing she could have ever anticipated, and despite her daily practice and procedures to strengthen her nen, there were some others present who were still far more experienced. _

_ Nevertheless she had managed to collect the license, and with it a larger range of higher paying clients. This was a definite advantage to her, although she did notice that her contracts had risen to become about eighty percent assassination-rooted as opposed to the other odd jobs she used to be considered for the majority of the time. She also found that she was becoming almost constantly busy, jumping from one job to the next with little time for even quick trips back to the forest which she loved so much._

_ On the evening in question, a young adolescent Misaki was seated amongst the atypically few other passengers upon the airship to the Volcanic Islands, reading over the file she had been sent via text message. This alone told her the story of her newest client's inexperience as far as hiring an assassin, as of course it was foolish and risky to send full files of information this way. _

_ The man, who had only given a single name (but stupidly his __**surname**__, the girl noticed), "Kamaka", had an order for assassination of an "Ano Kamaka". The girl's lips stiffened as she read the name, and inwardly she cursed the man for having leaked the information to her (whether accidentally or intentionally), that the victim was in some way related to him. Slaughtering family members was somehow a difficult thought, and she wondered honestly if she could follow through…_

_ '__**I'll never take a contract that I won't keep**__,' she reminded herself stubbornly, snapping shut the phone._

_ It wasn't for another few hours that she actually met her client face to face inside a townhouse-like building that was actually a small pub. She hesitated for a moment when the bartender requested her drink order, as she had never been considered old enough to purchase alcohol before. Ultimately she settled for a "Vermouth on the rocks" since it was the only drink she could locate in her then limited liquor vocabulary. Her first gulp was larger than it ought to have been, and she struggled to keep her expression deadpan as the overwhelmingly bitter taste rose through her nostrils and left a burning sensation in her throat as it went down. She sputtered out a series of congested-sounding coughs for a few moments and finally opted to hold her breath and take smaller, more modest sips. _

_ "Excuse, er… I think I'm here to meet you?"_

_ As her amber eyes fixed on the man that had spoken behind her, Misaki was not at all surprised that this man could have been the one that made such foolish mistakes in hiring a hit-man. He was in his twenties probably, wearing coke bottle glasses with black frames twice as wide as the girth of the lenses. His eyes appeared gigantic through them, almost as if he were rather holding two large magnifying glasses over his pupils. His charcoal grey slacks were not long enough to reach his ankles, and stopped abruptly three fifths of the way down his shins. This made his blindingly white socks stand out all the more, having rolled down from their original position at two different lengths. _

_ Tapping at the lower half of his neck, he said awkwardly, "The bandana… I'm supposed to look for the girl with the black bandana…"_

_ Reaching her hand out to shake, she said, "Tanoh…"_

_ Instead of shaking it, the man took it and kissed it as he was taught to do when greeting a woman._

_ "…Misaki," she finished, shooting him an awkward glance before wrenching back her hand and wiping the back of it on her denim shorts._

_ "Kamaka, Ha-… I mean just Kamaka," he said quickly. "So what I was thinking of doing-…"_

_ "Not here," she cut in._

_ "Oh, of course not. Where would you like to go to discuss things?"_

_ "Do you like Vermouth?"_

_ Kamaka's face contorted, though he did manage to answer, "I… suppose so…"_

_ "Then here," Misaki said, pushing her drink over to the man. "Down this and then we can go talk about what you want done exactly to your victim."_

_ "My __**father**__," he corrected, taking a sip and smacking his lips at the bitter taste he was not used to._

_ "Father?" she repeated, a painful lurch twisting in her gut at the thought._

_ "He's very successful," Kamaka whispered, "and with my inheritance money I can finally pursue my dream of being a geologist instead of taking over his silly retail clothing outlet. Not to mention his promise that I can have his nen ability when he passes. It's all bound in writing already, and you should see his 'Bottomless Pit' move…"_

_ "Your father…"_

_ Perhaps Misaki had overlooked something in her "tolerance" as far as killing went. Never before had she been told who her victims were on a personal level, and especially not in relation to her employers. This made it simple to disassociate them as real, living, human beings with families and jobs and emotions. She knew this now more than ever, as her insides burned with protest at the thought of murdering this young man's __**father**__._

_ She remembered her own parents, and how they had endured ups and downs of all sorts together from typical to unbelievable… She thought about how she had returned to discover that her parents had apparently "suffered an accident" and died in her absence. Then, she considered her mission to purposely sever a family, as if to take her own and chop it up in to sloppy, bloody pieces and toss them apart. Would she ever be able to wash the blood from her hands?_

_ The girl felt ill, and much to her own dismay, she __**did**__ follow through and assassinate Ano Kamaka, despite her tears hindering the performance some. The client was so grateful that he paid her double his offer, and even gave her his number with the promise that she could depend on him if ever she needed a favor. A "reasonable favor" rather was how he had stated it._

_ It wasn't for another ten years that Misaki finally had the nerve to scroll over the contact name "Haku K" in her list and call in that favor, of course..._

* * *

**A/N:**** Originally this wasn't my plan for this chapter, although it was my intention to fit this in somewhere. Hopefully it's not too disruptive to the flow of the story... **

**Also, thanks to the "guest" reviewer who got through all the chapters in a couple days. I hope you didn't hurt yourself XD although I'm flattered.**

**Lastly, there are a few people that are apparently disappointed in the fact that this story is not 100% focused on Killua developing a full blown romance with Misaki. To those people, I apologize if I've misled you somehow. There are plenty of stories where Killua and an OC are falling head over heels for one another and starting a relationship, but I'm sure you can probably tell if you've made it this far that that is not entirely my aim. "Romance" is not one of the main two categories I've selected (as someone kindly pointed out in a review before), and so I hope that does not come as a complete annoyance to anybody. **


	37. Chapter Thirty-Six: Good Intentions

"…and I thought we could just get people in the areas to help us out maybe, but Haku-san said that it would start an uproar like when Tanzanite was about to erupt- _if_ they even believe us…"

"Uh huh," Killua interjected, completely distracted and peering out the slightly cracked door of the bathroom across at Misaki's closed bedroom door.

Gon continued, "…So Haku-san suggested… that we should maybe… contact L.I.G.H.T. since they know all about the eruptions anyway and _are_ technically trying to stop it…"

"Yeah," the silver haired boy agreed, though his tone made it obvious that he hadn't at all taken in his friend's story.

The tanned boy frowned from his seat on the sink counter as he cupped some water in his hands and dumped it over his dirty arms. It had been a particularly rough work day.

"Um, Killua?"

"What?"

The slightly younger boy drew in a deep breath and then let it out slowly.

"Are you even listening?"

"Yeah; Haku-san was telling you that," Killua attempted to relay back to him, though in truth he really hadn't picked up on the main points at all.

"Do you think it's a good idea?"

"Sure, why not?"

…_your friend needs to let go of this obvious infatuation he's developed for Misaki because she's not a good girl to get close to in such a manner_…

Gon was conflicted. He believed Haku's warning and the legitimacy of it. Haku was his friend… but… Killua was his friend, too… his _best_ friend, in fact. Not to mention that he considered Misaki to be his friend as well…

Still, if there was something possibly _dangerous_ about Killua liking Misaki, he should probably mention it, at least…

"Killua?" he asked in an uncharacteristically small voice.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think maybe… it's a bad idea to follow Misaki around all the time?"

"I don't!" the paler boy protested immediately, glancing up at his friend.

"Well, then why are you watching her bedroom?"

"I don't follow her _all_ the time," Killua corrected, his voice partially agitated. "I just want to make sure that Yuto doesn't try anything funny."

Gon smiled weakly.

"…But Killua, Misaki is strong… she even saved us before…"

"He might try something when she isn't expecting it," he snapped, becoming more irritated the closer Gon came to disputing his delusion.

The dark haired boy sighed. Perhaps he needed to simply tell his comrade the absolute truth, as much of it as he knew.

"Killua… Haku-san told me that it's not good for you to get so close to Misaki."

This did manage to catch Killua's undivided attention enough so that that boy actually stood all the way up and even turned away from his post at the door to face Gon. Unfortunately, his expression was one of notable shock and anger.

"You told _Haku_ that I like Misaki?" he hissed incredulously.

"No!" Gon insisted, holding his palms up defensively. "He came to me and said it was obvious."

_It was_ _obvious_…

"So you guys just talked about me like that while I wasn't there?"

"Killua…" the boy pleaded, his expression one of attempted compliance and hurt. "I'm just worried for you."

In his mind however, Killua could not hear Gon's concern. Instead he heard Yuto's voice, taunting him over and over:

_'You like this girl, do you?'_

_ 'What's it to you?'_

_ 'It's obvious.'_

Killua clenched his teeth and balled his hands in to firm fists at his sides.

"Please, Killua, don't be upset," Gon whispered softly.

_'The point is she __doesn't like __you.'_

_ 'You don't believe that, though…'_

"Shut up…" Killua whispered almost inaudibly to the scene replaying over in his head.

_'If that were true, you wouldn't have felt the need to try and stop us…'_

"Shut up," he said, a little louder.

"Killua…?"

_'If that were true, you wouldn't have felt the need to try and stop us…'_

"I said shut up!" the boy screamed while squeezing his eyes tightly closed, his booming voice echoing through the mostly empty bathroom.

When he finally opened his eyes, the sight of Gon's pained features met his eyes. His tanned shoulders were slumped inward and his brows knitted with a blend of confusion and sorrow and worry.

_ '__I hurt him__,' _Killua realized, withdrawing a step._ '__I hurt Gon…__'_

"I…" the silver haired boy started, staring pathetically at his emotionally damaged friend, "… I have to…"

Before he could even finish his own sentence, Killua bolted from the room in horror and panic at what he had done.

Stunned, Gon could do little more than watch his companion leave. He was only snapped out of his frozen state when he felt a drop of water touch to the back of his hand. Then he remembered that the sink was off.

His reflection revealed to him that of a child, alone and frightened, and the tanned boy curled in to a ball on the tiled floor and wept; wept for the pain he felt.

…But also he wept for Killua, who was in great agony too, he was certain. Yes, his friend was hurting, and as determined as the tanned boy was to discover a solution for him, he felt hopeless and weak in this moment. He hugged himself tighter and tighter as he cried, all too aware that the two had been growing apart significantly during this last week and that just maybe he did not know Killua enough now to help him.


	38. Chapter Thirty-Seven:Frantic Realization

Killua's eyes darted madly around the tiny hallway as though it were a labyrinth rather than a single, two meter stretch between two thin walls. His sight moved faster than his body, which was trembling in anticipation of escaping.

"Kil', you're shaking," Misaki's voice announced from her temporary bedroom doorway.

His breaths came in shallow, rapid bursts, and the adrenaline seemed to overdose his system to the point that his knees threatened to buckle from under him.

'_I have to get out_,' was his loudest thought amongst too many others, still amidst the insistence of his flight response.

Her hand, steady and unmarred by the worries which plagued him, rested upon his back slightly to the left of his spine. His heart was pounding dangerously fast, and he could feel it- _hear _it even, he could have sworn- thumping against the flesh of her palm. Then, he was being guided toward the opening of the doorway.

The deadpan expression gave way to one of slight concern as Misaki said, "Come; let's get you settled."

It wasn't until the door clicked behind him that Killua really understood that he was _inside_ the room. The plum haired girl led him patiently toward the single bed and assisted him to sit on the blanketed edge. She turned and retrieved a plastic cup filled three quarters with water and held it out for him.

"I haven't even so much as sipped it," she promised.

When his shaking hands could not form a respectable grip, Misaki opted to hold the cup up to his lips _for_ him.

"Don't breathe and drink at the same time," she warned him in an oddly maternal tone.

Something soothed him about the combination of the water and her nurturing, and Killua hesitantly took the cup from her on his own. When he stopped drinking and inhaled, he noticed for the first time that the girl's scent was cosmetically sweet. His eyes studied her, and were surprised to register that she was looking far less casual than he had ever seen her before.

Rather than her usual outfit, her denim jean shorts, fingerless gloves, and hiking boots with the coral laces, she was adorned in a pallid yellow halter dress. It was form-fitting until it hit the waist, where it loosened and flared out to just above the knee in a ripple-like fashion. A sparkling silver brooch was fastened to it just below the bust. Then he noticed that the skin on her face was smoothed out and even looking, with her lips slightly rouged and her plum hair worn down. Her nose looked smaller than usual somehow.

On the other side of the room, the dresser top was loaded with cosmetic compacts and tubes and next to them an emptied shopping bag with a paper receipt hanging out.

"Why are you dressed like that?" he asked.

She smiled weakly as she grabbed her brush and ran it through her hair in front of the small vanity mirror.

"I'm going out tonight."

"Tonight? It's only four o'clock…"

"Yes, but it might take me a while to get ready. I've never gone on a real date before, and I don't want to be late leaving just in case."

_A real date…_

Killua's heart sunk, and for a moment his constant, conflicting inner dialogue ceased altogether before restarting over again, this time with several more persistent thoughts torturing his psyche over the others.

"You're going on a date? With _who_?" he asked as if he did not already know the answer.

"With-…" she began, stopping abruptly as though remembering something else. "With Yuto."

"That guy is such a jerk!" Killua snapped before he could stop himself.

Misaki chuckled as she rolled the brush through the undermost layers of her hair.

"Yeah, he is," she agreed.

"Then why go out with him at all?"

"Well, he asked me."

Killua was stunned. Was it really that simple? He could have just _asked_ her and then she would have said yes? That was all there was to it?

"So, if um… _I_ asked you…?" Killua questioned awkwardly in a low whisper, trying his hardest to ignore his chattering mind.

'_I hurt Gon…_'

Misaki strolled over to Killua and planted a small peck on his cheek. The boy felt his face immediately burn in response, and he touched his fingertips to the spot.

"See? This lip stain doesn't even leave a mark," she teased, winking as she pointed to the mirror where he could see that his cheek was still bare.

"Misaki…" Killua murmured.

"Hmm?" she replied, having returned to the vanity in order to apply a peach powder to her cheeks.

_'…it's not good for you to get so close to Misaki…'_

'_If that were true, you wouldn't have felt the need to try and stop us…'_

_ 'I'm just worried for you…'_

_ '…You are incapable of friendship…'_

"Are you… alright?"

It took Killua a full moment to recognize that the final quote was spoken aloud by Misaki, who was now standing over him with a look of hesitant concern playing on her painted features. He also realized that his nerves were uneasy again, quivering all over, and panic-stricken.

As if his limbs were acting of their own volition, he flung himself at Misaki, hugging to her tightly, desperately, like a helpless infant clinging to its mother. He felt foolish, but could not bring himself to detach from her.

At first her reaction was something reminiscent of a deer in headlights, wide eyed and stiff and stunned, but after a few moments the girl seemed to adjust and slowly brought her arms around him. She softly patted and rubbed his back, occasionally mussing his hair with the opposite hand.

"It's okay, Kil'," she cooed so gently he was scarcely sure he'd heard her correctly.

The progress was dreadfully slow, but eventually he noticed that he was almost entranced by her, and was somewhere between wake and slumber. Lightly, Misaki peeled his limbs from around her and returned him to the bed; reaching for a tissue to dab away the tears he had not realized were already streaming down his cheeks.

Three firm knocks on the bedroom door.

"Misaki, are you ready?"

"I'll be a few minutes yet."

The knob was turning. The door creaked slightly open.

The plum haired girl snatched her umbrella from the carpeted floor and heaved it at the door, slamming it shut.

"I _said_ just a minute. Stay out."

She turned back to Killua, capturing his face in her hands and using her thumbs to stroke away the last of the tears.

"You can stay in here if you like," she said sweetly. "Try to get some rest. Don't wait up."

She kissed his forehead and slipped her fingers through his hair once more. While heading for the door she halted and lingered there for a second or two, glancing back at him with her face expressing more emotion than he had ever seen it do before (despite his admitted uncertainty of _which_ emotion it happened to be displaying). She smiled weakly at him before exiting the room.

_Do you think maybe it's a bad idea to follow Misaki around all the time?_

'_You're right, Gon,_' he decided, '_but this time, I really __**need**__ to_.'

Wiping his nose on his sleeve, Killua tip toed to the window and leapt gracefully out, doing his best to fight off his guilt and pain in order to successfully track the woman he only just now realized that he really, truly loved, and could not accept the possibility of losing her to Yuto.

'_I'll make things right, Gon_,' his overloaded mind promised determinedly. '_I'll make __**everything**__ right! Just hang in there, you'll see!_'

* * *

**A/N:**** Wow, two chapters in one day XD Hopefully they were acceptable! Thanks again for the encouraging reviews I've received and for taking the time to read my story! I'm flattered, really.**


	39. Chapter Thirty-Eight: Defining Symbiosis

"If ever I'd desired to have dinner with the dead, I can assure you I would have purchased a Ouija board already," Misaki's utterly mirthless voice announced in to her soup bowl.

Illumi glanced out through his forged and heavy lidded eyes across the table at the girl. She had been making an obvious point to avoid looking his way since their departure from Haku's residence. Now even her jokes, which he often made a point to ignore himself, sounded more like disdain-filled accusations.

"If I take them out, there is a chance one of them might see me," he explained.

"Mmhmm," she agreed flatly, lifting the side of the bowl to her lips to take a generous sip of broth.

Until this time, he had assumed that his plan to rectify both issues would be resolvable within this one night alone. It was unfathomable to the Zoldyck just how suddenly his upper hand seemed to be falling in rank, and failure was an inconceivable option. No, he would just have to adapt to Misaki's whims enough to impress her but not so much as to compromise his plan.

"If you'd like me to take them out, I will," his monotonous voice said, feigning compliance.

"If that was somehow a question I won't bother giving an answer since obviously you already know what it would be," she replied coldly.

He hesitated for a moment before rising from his seat and strolling over to the washroom to remove his 'Yuto' disguise. Apparently for some reason or other, Misaki seemed to be quite determined to make his job difficult tonight.

'_No matter_,' Illumi mused before the large, sink mirrors as he plucked the pins from his neck one by one, '_I will play her game and win, the way I always manage to do._'

* * *

_There had been a time when Misaki had considered assassins that were inclined to drink frequently unfit for the profession._

_ '_For why,_' wondered the girl, '_would anyone who is not bothered by giving a death sentence need to calm their nerves or forget the act? Work is work, and most other jobs do not follow you home after hours. Why should this one be any different?_'_

_ This had, of course, all changed since her contract at the Volcanic Islands. Her work was becoming harder and harder to separate from her psyche, and each victim became a living, breathing, human being with children and feelings in her mind. It was then that she transformed herself in to a willing hypocrite, obsessed with blurring the lines of reality in order to at all complete a mission. _

_ That was not to say that Misaki Tanoh was thus forgiving of her descent in to duplicitous auto-pilot mode. In fact, the girl found herself amidst a remorseless cycle of shame, loathing, and finally unhinged disassociation of self. She felt shame for her reliance now on something she had harshly criticized others for in the past, despite having never spoken it aloud. This eventually gave way to a preoccupied hatred for her lack of self-control, and ultimately led to a zombie-like, numb state which seemed to (thankfully) close off her receptors to full range of thought or emotion. _

_ Still, the jobs continued to pour in. Misaki took them, too; wanting desperately to succeed sometimes, and at other times simply because she was curious as to whether she could feel anything while doing them._

_ It was April- five months since her fourteenth birthday had come and gone- when she was contacted for a job that she instantly knew would increase her credibility. She had performed fairly simple tasks for the mafia before, from simply acting as "arm candy" for underground events to small robberies and assassinations, but this one was different. It was the opportunity to put herself on the map for life._

_ The mafia had accrued a position amongst one of the Politicians running for presidency that ensured them easy access to traffic illegal narcotics over the border. The candidate was charming and well versed, and in fact stood an excellent chance of winning. However his wife, a former model for commercial advertising, jeopardized his odds of victory (according to Misaki's clients), since she was known for having affairs. This was said to have the possibility of losing the conservative-morale population's majority vote. _

_ Misaki was nothing short of shocked to find such a high profile assassination being entrusted in her fourteen year old hands. She spent some time questioning it in her inebriated mind, obsessing over it and even dreaming about it, though finally she agreed to accept. _

_ No matter the repercussions, she was certain that this one was worth it._

* * *

"I have to say," Misaki said with slightly more vigor to her voice as Illumi returned- free of disguise- to the table, "I would have never in a million years pegged you as the 'pseudo-bohemian' type."

Illumi shrugged, glancing around the small, eclectically decorated, café-styled restaurant.

"I thought it was apt to _your_ tastes rather than mine."

The girl smirked, finally reaching him with her amber gaze.

"You're to tell me that you spent an indiscriminate amount of time stalking me around, and _still_ you came to the conclusion that I'm practically a beatnik?"

Her brow was raised sardonically, but the forced pucker to her lips gave her away; even Illumi could tell that her mood had improved substantially in spite of her attempts to keep it somber.

"Either your stalking skills have deteriorated in the last five years, or your analytical abilities have," she teased, lowering her eyes as though doing so would conceal the playful smile weaving its way across her mouth. She reached for her teacup and held it to her lips, murmuring, "Since we're _so_ very liberal, I suppose I should pay, too," before taking a sip.

"If that is your preference…"

"It seems I've forgotten my wallet."

"It's in your purse," he corrected her flatly.

Smiling broadly now, Misaki said, "Oh _that_ you can figure out, I see."

After a moment she extended her arm across the length of the small, circular table and brushed her thumb tenderly over his knuckles.

"You _should_ pay," she insisted. "After all, I'm still mad at you."

"For what purpose?"

"'For what purpose', indeed," she responded in a sing-song voice.

Considering his answer carefully so as not to risk losing the game, Illumi re-filled the wine glass that the girl must have drained during his trip to the washroom earlier. He was inwardly quite pleased to see that she had been drinking, as it would certainly improve his chances later. An orgasmic jolt of power hit him as she immediately got to work on her drink once he'd withdrawn the bottle, doing exactly as he'd wished without encouraging.

"You did not seem angry over the last week," he said, and she flushed a deep shade of pink at the implication of his statement.

"That has nothing to do with it," she protested on rapid fire. In a whisper, she added, "You can sleep with someone and still be upset with them, you know."

Hearing this opinion from her was a relief to Illumi, as he now felt confident that at least _that_ portion of his plan would not likely fall through this night.

* * *

_From the outside, "Butterfly Peaks" did not at all convey the atmosphere of sensuality and sexual freedom that it promised its customers. The warehouse-like exterior was painfully bland and uninspiring. One would almost glance over its grainy texture and box-like shape and pass by without a second thought. Nevertheless, Misaki held her breath and entered the infamous Love Hotel in search of her victim._

_ The lobby revealed a few dozen television monitors, many displaying images of differently styled bedrooms that were everything from modest to obscene, and five of the screens were blank. Ignoring the welcoming requests of the desk agent, Misaki exited the building again, taking a risk and keeping in mind which number of screens were empty. _

_ It wasn't until she had reached the third room, having scaled the building from the outside two other times already and feeling the effects of her physical exertion, that she had discovered a woman in her forties with golden hair lounging atop a heart-shaped king sized bed. This was the woman she sought, she was positive… _

_ The act of the assassination itself was uneventful. The woman was unprepared for the attack and fell to the floor, limp. Deciding it was probably in her best interest to do so, Misaki awkwardly approached the openly displayed shower where the lady's fully exposed lover was currently stationed. She slit his throat with the sharpened tip of her umbrella, and then retreated toward the window._

_ An uncorked bottle of champagne caught her eye on the table. Robotically, she reached for it and hungrily downed the bubbly liquor. This was her fate… to be this shell of a human… to feel too much and then maybe too little… or too little and then maybe too much…_

_ The reflection of herself in the vanity mirror behind the bed was pathetic enough that she could have almost sworn she felt physical pain simply catching sight of it. Her eyes were drooping and purple bagged, her skin was oily and glistening under the incandescent bulbs, and her hair was terribly askew. Worse still was the bottle at her mouth, which she was sucking on as though it were breathing life into her weary and sickly skeletal looking figure._

_ Misaki collapsed to the floor, teary eyed. This was her nature, her destiny, to cease all development and only vaguely remember any simple comforts. Every day was new, but stayed the same. The faces changed, the people rushed by, but nothing was familiar. Only this Novocain feeling… She was alone… all alone…_

_ As if it were an answer to her half intoxicated, teenage prayers, a familiar face suddenly __**did**__ appear. With his head cocked mildly to the right, dark eyes looking at and then through her, the boy she had encountered before was projected on to the mirror's surface._

_ Misaki spun from her position on the ground, wide-eyed, and faced him. He held needles between each of his fingers, and she very seriously wondered if he would kill her. There was an odd sense of serenity in that thought just then, as though being killed by someone she recognized might be acceptable somehow. He pushed past her and studied the body of the politician's wife, stared silently at the bluing lips and sunken cheeks, and then turned on his heel back toward the window, pocketing his weapons._

_ '_Leaving_!' her mind shouted. '_He's leaving_!'_

_ Her hand grasped his ankle tightly, and he halted. She gazed in to his black eyes through her weary, pathetically pleading ones. To her surprise, he turned back to face her again._

_ "I…" she started to say, trailing off when she realized that she did not really know what she had intended to speak. She whispered, "Please…"_

_ 'Please' __**what**__? She didn't know, but oddly it appeared that he did. He lifted her chin with his index finger, and she followed it until she was standing on her feet again before him. There was something strange lingering in his facial features, as though he were fighting to suppress something that she could not understand. _

_ He reached behind her, hesitated as his fingers touched her back, and fumbled through the material of her shirt for a moment or two. It wasn't until she actually felt the clasp of her bra fall open that she comprehended what he was suggesting._

_ There was something horribly __**right**__ about the thought of engaging in this impulse… something that was plaguing her fourteen year old body as though it had been the answer all along and she had carelessly overlooked it. It begged her to feed in to the urge, to explore it, and before she could convince herself otherwise, Misaki happily surrendered. In that moment, she wanted him, and nothing else mattered...  
_

_ Her alcohol addiction, while perhaps it had not been fully overcome, had been successfully replaced with something she decidedly preferred better. Even when they parted, Misaki knew she would see the boy again. This would not be the only time, and she could build a wonderful, steady routine out of this elated feeling. She could stay true to her lone nature, and still have this beautiful loophole that allowed to be close to someone and yet far at once._

_ Sins of the flesh were the most fun, after all…_

_ ...if not the most irreparable and deadly._

* * *

"Can't we go through the door?" Misaki's slurred voice whined out as Illumi carried her in through Haku's bedroom window.

The truth was they could not if he expected his plan to work correctly. Killua could not see him enter the house first if his plot was to succeed… not in his true form, at least. Soon it wouldn't even matter anymore.

Rolling Misaki over on the bed, he got to work on unfastening the knot in her halter dress as his eyes fell on to the clock. There wasn't much time to prepare, and he was grateful that the girl had followed his prompts and drunk enough to loosen her tongue and free her inhibitions. It was completely necessary that she was willing to do and say what ever he suggested; especially tonight.

How would he be able to teach Killua an effective lesson otherwise?

* * *

**A/N: ****I know it seems like Killua disappeared, but he'll be back next chapter :P  
**


	40. Chapter Thirty-Nine: Reconciliation

Blocking out everything that threatened to taint his goal or claim his undivided attention, Killua steadily trailed Misaki and Yuto from a safe enough following distance that he was certain they would not suspect being tracked. Putting to use those years of scrupulous training, he kept his eyes patiently focused on his target as he gracefully weaved from one hiding place to the next. If there were any chance of moving in beyond Yuto's knowledge, he would challenge the opportunity post haste.

As the two entered a tacky, quite retro styled café, Killua debated whether or not he would be capable of concealing himself inside the building somehow, (though hastily opted against it once he'd taken a peek through the generously sized window around the side). No, it was far too small of a restaurant for him to risk it. Fortunately however, there were many topiary designs just before the pane of glass outdoors that offered adequate coverage and free range of sight in to the dining room.

Huddled behind the green leg of a clipped "elephant", Killua studied the two with the utmost caution, analyzing each and every motion as though it were a piece to a large and infinitely significant puzzle. He found himself spitefully elated to notice Misaki's apparent gloomy mood as she sat frowning in to her first course across from the boy's decided rival. There was no hint of chemistry; just a very miserable and displeased girl that mostly left her hands in her lap and her eyes to herself.

Grinning wickedly, the silver haired boy thought, '_Ha! I said she didn't like you, and it looks like I was right!_'

_That guy is such a jerk!_

_Yeah, he is…_

He willingly replayed the words over and over, fueling them further with the disdain in her unimpressed facial expression.

_Yeah, he is…_

There was something wonderfully terrible about the thought that Yuto, in all his sickening confidence, was completely and utterly _wrong_ about Misaki and her desires, and that he himself was entirely and unarguably_ right_. In his own head he gloated his victory, hoping that Yuto could somehow _feel_ this.

_Yeah, he __**is**__…_

"Killua…?"

Having been so wholly focused on the scenario occurring within the café before him, the former assassin had failed to notice his friend approaching. He jumped in an explosion of flailing limbs, an unshakable feeling of embarrassment overwhelming him as he realized just how severely he had been startled. Had he really neglected his surroundings so completely?

"G-Get down!" he ordered after a beat, tackling Gon to the ground. "They'll see you!"

Gon was sufficiently stunned for a moment, blinking his eyes as though he were attempting to adjust them to a sudden extreme change in lighting. Remembering their last encounter in the bathroom, Killua lowered his eyes awkwardly.

"Gon, I-…" he whispered.

"I don't think they're even looking this way," Gon announced, and as Killua glanced up he realized that his companion was peering in through the massive sheet of glass.

"Gon," he murmured carefully, rubbing the back of his neck, "about before…"

The tanned boy grinned sheepishly.

"Aw Killua, don't worry about it," he insisted. "I shouldn't have said those things to you… especially since I was the one that thought you should tell Misaki your feelings first."

Killua felt the blood rush to his face.

"It's not _that_ big of a deal," he mumbled uncomfortably.

"Nah, that's why we can forget about it," Gon assured him, misunderstanding his words.

"Yeah, okay," he agreed, smiling weakly.

Warmth spread through him at the reminder that he could always depend on his best friend this way. Gon stood up and offered his open palm to the boy.

"I know you want to watch Misaki-san," he said with a smile, "so if it's that important to you, we can do it together."

With widened blue eyes, Killua- stunned- asked, "You want to help me?"

Gon enthusiastically raised his thumb and with a wink cried, "Of course! You're my best friend!"

Averting his eyes once more, the silver haired boy smiled to himself. In spite of everything that had happened before, Gon was still willing to put his worries and insecurities aside to assist him in what ever way he most needed. There was a pleasant ripple of emotion that came with this realization, and Killua found himself very much adverse to his initial goal in turn for celebrating and returning his comrade's kindness. Somehow, some way, his tanned friend was always so compliant when it came to sharing his light with those who required it most.

"Maybe…" Killua murmured, taking Gon's hand and using it to hoist himself to his feet, "…we could just go back to Haku's place and play a game instead."

Surprised, the island boy replied, "What about Misaki-san?"

Killua exhaled a long, slow breath as he turned his gaze back to the window. Yuto was standing now, retreating to the washroom. The plum haired girl was downing her glass of red wine at record speed. He knew this could have been his opportunity to speak to Misaki, to confess to her all the things that he didn't really know how to say…

He closed his eyes for a moment before angling his face back toward Gon.

"I think… I can talk to her when she gets back home," he explained. Showing off his most smug expression as he took to the street, he said, "Come on, I learned a new card game that I can kick your butt at."

Laughing, Gon raced behind him.

* * *

"Man, this game is _hard_!" Gon whined as he threw himself on to his back.

Grinning, Killua collected the rows of cards back in to one collective pile and reshuffled them in to the deck.

"Yeah, but once you catch on it's not so bad."

"Is this the same one you lost to Misaki-san at the hospital?" the tanned boy asked, immediately regretting bringing up the girl.

Grunting, the blue eyed boy muttered, "It was a _close_ match."

With a flick of the wrist, Killua alternated between them as he dealt out ten cards each. As he lifted his hand, he peered over the smooth edges at his friend, who was staring in to his own set with his tongue poking out at the side of his mouth in a display of his determination and focus.

"You don't think…" the pale boy began, withdrawing his blushing face behind the cards when his tanned friend looked up at him. "I mean… she didn't look very _happy_, right?"

Gon tilted his head back toward the ceiling, scanning it as though the answer were hovering above them.

"No, I think she looked pretty upset."

Killua fought to suppress a smile.

"Yeah," he agreed coolly, relaxing a bit as he laid out his rows face-down on the floor.

* * *

_Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. _

Seated in the modest easy chair with his elbows propped up on his knees, Killua stared at the wall clock opposite of him. Other than Haku's occasional snore or Gon's heavily, sleep induced exhaling, the pendulum was the only source of sound in the room. The hands pointed at twelve and one, and admittedly the boy was losing confidence in his belief that the date was going poorly. If that was true, what in the world was taking them so unthinkably long to come back?

As his eyes rolled over the couch, brushing across Haku's thick rimmed glasses (which were perched atop his head) and Gon's agape and sometimes twitching mouth, a thought occurred to him. What if Yuto and Misaki had no intentions of returning tonight? Could their date have included some sort of _overnight_ getaway? Did that mean that perhaps their situation had improved since his departure, and that rather than coming back here, right now they were…

A tight, suffocating sensation clutched within Killua's chest at the mere idea.

_Don't wait up…_

He folded his hands over and over, clenching his jaw. No, no… there was no way they could be… Misaki wouldn't… with _that_ jerk? Would she?

_Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. _

Squeezing his eyelids together, he forcibly recreated the image of her miserable expression as he had seen it earlier at the café. Perhaps he even embellished it, if only slightly.

'_She hates you_,' his mind hissed hopelessly at a non-present Yuto.

_Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick-_

There was a flash of aura nearby, he was certain he had sensed it. However it had come and gone so rapidly that he had failed to specifically locate it. His posture corrected itself; was it them?

_Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick-_

It had revealed itself once more. This time he had narrowed down the possibilities of which direction it had come. He was partially stunned to recognize that it appeared to be originating from Haku's bedroom. Slowly, Killua rose to his feet and silently shifted his steps down the hallway.

As he felt the wave of aura for the third time, he finally wrote off the prospect of the perpetrator having accidentally fallen out of _Zetsu_ due to inexperience. No, this was a timed response that was cycling as if on cue. Who ever this was _wanted _someone to know that they were there. Naturally, this only further raised Killua's guard as he approached the door.

Deciding to play it safe, Killua turned the knob so slowly that one would be hard pressed to have recognized it turning at all. With the same abundance of patience, he opened the door enough to poke his head in…

…and was not in the least prepared for the meticulously planned scene that awaited him on the other side…

* * *

**A/N:**** Dun dun duuuuunnn! **

**I know I'm probably sounding like a broken record by now, but thank you for the reviews! I was a bit surprised to see the feedback over the weekend XD  
**


	41. Chapter Fourty:Fighting The Hand of Fate

The sights and scents of midnight could not reach Killua as he whisked through the blurs of objects both animate and inanimate alike. He was running, although he did not know or care of his final destination; he would race until the explicit images poured from his eyes and could no longer apprehend his thoughts and the morbidly painful words ceased their heinous echoing in his ears.

There was perhaps no escape, although even the panic-stricken second he'd managed to borrow in order to wonder so could not halt his desire... no, his _need_… to continue on. Could he truly never find peace or freedom from his past? Would it chase him forever and devour him once he was breathless and weary?

_You are incapable of friendship…_

Perhaps fate was real after all, and the fates had decided that come hell or high water, he should be Killua _Zoldyck_… and that one cannot outrun their fate no matter how adamant one insists on being against it. For what good is running really if one was under water all along, drowning in one's inescapable destiny?

'_Idiot…_' his mind scolded him. '_I'm an idiot to have ever believed in-…_'

* * *

As Killua opened the bedroom door, he was instantly paralyzed by the unmistakable image of his eldest brother. His eyes widened in shock, and the familiar sensation of cold sweat enveloped him. So frightened of the unexpected appearance of Illumi was he that he even failed to really observe the situation right away.

'_He's here_,' was all that the boy could fathom. '_Illumi is __**here**_.'

Yet the man did not look at him during this time for even a moment. Instead he was focused below him…

…on a writhing and fully exposed Misaki, who also seemed unaware of Killua's presence from her half-shelter beneath the sheets.

It was only then, when confronted with the realization that the girl he had fallen for was completely bared in front of his eyes, did he understand that Illumi was unclothed also. He seemed frozen in time above the girl, and after a minute or two he finally spoke to her.

"Perhaps this is a bad idea…" he suggested flatly, not bothering to lower the volume of his voice.

The plum haired girl let out a desperate wail and grasped his arm with her fingernails.

"Don't… you can't… like _this_?' she cried out in a slur, panting heavily enough to skip words unintentionally.

Killua did not want to watch this. He did not want to hear any of this. It had not truly sunk in precisely _what_ he was seeing and hearing yet, but he did _not want_ to… Still somehow his body refused to obey his authority and stayed, absorbing the scene wholly.

"You might be using me," Illumi explained hollowly, "and thinking of someone else."

Misaki shook her head violently.

Towering over her in a position more of power than of passion, he said, "Then tell me my name."

She did so, on loop, in a voice that was so sultry and almost deliriously pleading that even in his odd stupor, it physically hurt Killua to hear. It was only then that Illumi finally glanced up at his younger brother, his eyes depthless as ever. Then, he obliged the girl's begging… right there in front of him… Meanwhile leaving Killua to understand this agonizing message that Illumi had somehow discovered that he had become fond of Misaki and that in the end he was not _allowed_ to love…not her, and not anybody else…

When it was finally over- after minutes, hours, perhaps _days_… Killua did not know- Misaki rolled away from Illumi on to her stomach. Her cosmetically made up face was dewy and sweat-stricken in the aftermath, and faint, unsteady streaks of black reached down from her eyes to her cheek bones. The eyelids lifted, initially only halfway, and her amber irises seemed to lock on to him after a few hazy seconds of aimless wandering.

Jolting suddenly, her chapped mouth fell partially agape and her eyes nearly bulged from within her skull.

"K-Killua?" she gasped out in utter disbelief.

This broke the spell which rendered his limbs useless, and his body caught up to his rushing mind. Spinning on the ball of his foot, the silver haired boy dashed from the room and then from the house.

"Wait!"

…But no, he would not wait. Not anymore and perhaps never again…

* * *

The myriad of excruciating emotions which had initially fueled his physical body to access its flight response now appeared to be hindering its performance. He found himself plagued by it as he began to analyze the scenario rather than simply react to it, and in a moment he could only categorize as pure weakness he threw himself helplessly on to the grass below with his pale face down in to the dirt. His heart pounded and knocked against his ribcage as he gasped for breath at an alarming rate, all the while limply outstretched on the ground.

'_Misaki…_'

She had lied to him.

She knew Illumi.

She had probably always known Illumi.

And she had lied to him.

Maybe about _everything_…

His body shook and trembled as though it was weeping vigorously, but no tears came. He had _believed_ her… believed _in_ her… and it was all a lie. Her name might not even be Misaki. Her parents might not have been bandits. She might have never run away from home. There was a possibility that she was not even an Archaeological Hunter…

'_Idiot_,' he scolded himself inwardly once more.

"Idiot!" he hissed aloud this time between panting breaths.

* * *

Clad in only an aged and tattered navy blue robe that she had managed to snatch from the hook behind Haku's bedroom door on her way out, Misaki stood at a fair distance from Killua's collapsed and quivering body. Seeing the boy, his expression stunned and wounded, in the doorway following her and Illumi's excursion had sobered her up enough to chase after him. Now he had stopped and there was a definite opportunity to approach him, and yet she found herself unable to do so.

Perhaps she would have been unconditionally embarrassed about the situation if she had considered it at the most primal level. However, all she could see was the pale boy's frail remainder of sanity at stake, and quite simply all she knew was that she cared- and she cared a lot. She yearned to comfort him, and in her mind the agony that had been so evidently reflected in his face had assured her indefinitely that she had overstepped her bounds.

'_He's a child_,' she reminded herself. '_This is wrong, Misaki; he is a child and you are an adult. Do not over-analyze your emotions this way…_'

"Killua…" she whispered, her legs having taken her to him all on their own amidst her impressions and musings.

He ignored her, though his body cringed slightly at the sound of her voice.

"Killua," she started again, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable, "I'm-…"

The boy mumbled something to cut her off, though she could not understand the words.

"Pard-…?"

"Who are you?" he asked, clearer this time, using his elbows now to prop him partially up and absorb his weight. The tone was cold and generally numb sounding.

She shook her head slowly, uncertain how to respond.

"Are you Misaki Tanoh?" he questioned in a slightly more accusatory voice.

She nodded once, ever so slightly.

"Are you an Archaeological Hunter?"

Lowering her gaze, she bit the inside of her bottom lip.

"No," she replied almost inaudibly.

"You're not Satotz's friend, are you?"

She hesitated again, but ultimately shook her head.

"I see…"

His eyes lifted to meet her stare now, cold and empty. Still, there was a level of danger and malice to them that Misaki could not deny. She held each muscle still as he examined her quietly.

"You're Illumi's puppet then," he decided. "He just wanted you to help him get to me, right?"

"Killua," the girl objected with slightly more vigilance, "I did not consciously have anything to do with-…"

"You're a liar," he said darkly.

Bowing her head in shame, Misaki murmured, "Why would I tell you the truth now if-…"

"Here's the truth," he growled under his breath, rising to his feet with his eyes concealed within the tips of his forward tipped hair. "I hate you _both_."

He dashed away from her, stopping only as she made a single motion to move after him.

"If you follow me," Killua explained callously, not bothering even to call over his shoulder as he spoke, "I'll kill you."

He disappeared through the small rush of flora.

A droplet on the back of her palm woke Misaki from her vulnerable incapacitation of willing movement. She lifted her hand nearer to her face in order to examine it, only to have a second and then a third moist little bead fall upon the flesh. Touching her second knuckle to her eye, she was surprised to confirm that the wetness was in fact that of tears and indeed coming from her.

The evening breeze blew through her already disheveled hair, and she rotated her hands, opening her fists before her as if examining her hands could reveal to her the answers to the questions she could not properly form amongst her chaotic tangle of thoughts. Instead she simply surrendered to catching teardrops in her palms until she could no longer resist the urge to hug herself tightly and submit to the understanding that in reality there was no loophole to her existence, not really.

She was alone, and perhaps fate had decided this path for her long, long ago... and even at the expense of others it was persistent in demonstrating so.

* * *

**A/N:**** Originally when I planned out this part of the story, I did not have Illumi play such an active role and rather simply had Killua catch them off guard. When I was thinking about it, though, I had a hard time having Illumi being aware of Killua's attachment to Misaki and not taking advantage of his perceived weakness. Hopefully nobody was too offended by this chapter, but it's not over yet.  
**


	42. Chapter Fourty-One: Bitter

She had sensed him behind her long before Illumi had bothered to advance toward her. The flow of tears had finally ceased, and she was grateful that at the very least he would not have the satisfaction of seeing the full effect that his actions had upon her. How many years had it been now since they had met?

'_Twelve_,' she realized, forcing the overwhelming pressure between her ribs down in to her abdomen.

_You're Illumi's puppet…_

If one had suggested this to her only a single day prior, she would have scoffed at the severe miscalculation of the words. No, she simply reaped _mutual, physical benefit_ from him, she might have reminded herself with unwavering persistence. Yet… never was it so clear to Misaki that her usefulness to him was nil beyond her ability to bend to his will as it was at that very moment on this particular day.

It was frightening, this uncensored clarity, but still not nearly as mortifying as the small, insistent part of her that still yearned for him. She knew his game now, at least she was fairly certain she did, and even so there was a disgusting need for her to cling to him.

Yes, that's what it was; _disgusting_. She loathed herself simply recognizing it, and understanding with a horrific determination that despite his trust in her going no further than he could perhaps throw her… she still _desired_ him _somehow_… and the more contempt she felt for herself, the more she thirsted to gain his approval.

'_You are __**vile**__, Misaki_,' her mind hissed at her. '_Look what you've done… and still you want to please the one who has managed to see you as less human than even your clients. There's apathy for you, you stupid girl; now drown in it!_'

His footfalls were silent, though still she felt him draw nearer.

"Repulsive," she whispered weakly as her peripheral vision caught sight of his wholly clothed figure at her side.

Just the notion that he'd been steady and collected enough to redress himself before endeavoring to follow after her or Killua or both… was almost enough to quell the pitiful lurch in her gut.

His head tilted at the sound of her mumbled words, but no sound came in response.

With a cold, hateful tone she lifted her eyes to his, revealing all the loathing she could possibly muster in his direction as she growled, "You are a _repulsive_ human being."

His reaction (or lack thereof) twisted raging circles in her chest. Even during confrontation, his expression was unfazed, his posture erect, and his muscles relatively relaxed. She could not shake him… and the thought, while it weakened her mindset considerably, was used temporarily to channel further spite and threatening in to her glare.

"When can I expect the contract to be completed?" he asked, devoid of feeling and as though he had not just taken careless, unlimited advantage of her.

Misaki clenched her jaw until a sharp pain erupted behind her molars. She drew one step nearer to him, never breaking eye contact, and, forgetting her honor and her pride altogether, shamelessly spat in to his face.

Too nonchalant for her liking, Illumi simply ran his palm over his flesh, collecting the bulk of saliva in it, and examined in for a bored moment.

Looking back to her he repeated robotically, "When can I expect the contract-…?"

In disbelief of his audacity to simply ignore her even in the face of adversity, the girl charged forth, purposely slamming her shoulder in to his as she passed him as if she had planned to strut _through_ him. It was enough to halt his speech and jolt his body at an angle which permitted her to move forthright.

"If you follow me, I'll kill you," she threatened in a casual voice that did not at all match any one of the multiple, conflicting ways that she currently felt.

Whether he recognized that she would possibly return to him regardless or honestly believed the legitimacy of her warning was uncertain. In truth, she could not care. He held his position and that was all that mattered.

It was time to blur the lines of reality once again. Craving an escape, she sought out to take solace from a long neglected friend in the form of Vermouth. Tonight, Misaki decidedly needed to feel familiarity before she could even begin to unravel her web of lies and half truths and sort out the fragile pieces.

* * *

After some aimless wandering, Killua found himself once more standing at Haku's empty front door frame. He had fluttered about in the darkness on broken wings for an indeterminate amount of time, but as usual he felt the incredible urge to return to Gon like a moth drawn to the light.

Still he admittedly could not stay here, at Haku's residence. Illumi was here… or at least _had_ been… and whether or not he happened to be physically present at the moment was unimportant. This place was tainted now, and it would consume him if he remained.

He hesitated for only a few brief seconds before trudging in to the living room, where Gon and Haku were now awake and amidst conversing upon the pale grey couch. The bespectacled man noticed him first, resting his glance on the silver haired boy for no more than a moment before lowering his eyes to the ground uncomfortably.

"Gon, we're leaving," Killua said hollowly.

The tanned boy's expression revealed his surprise. Killua surmised that he had not discovered Illumi.

"Why?" he asked, stunned.

"Ask Haku," he urged darkly.

"Haku-san?"

The man shook his head, but did not lift his gaze from the floor.

'_Of course. If Misaki is Illumi's puppet, then Haku must be Misaki's_,' the paler boy insisted inwardly.

"Let's go."

"What's going on?" Gon questioned, turning his head back and forth from Killua to Haku.

"It was never real," the silver haired boy murmured.

"What wasn't?"

"Anything."

"I don't think I know what you mean…?"

"Haku is lying to us."

Now Haku did look up, his eyes pleading and his lips partially agape.

"That's absurd!"

"All you've ever done is lie," the blue eyed boy accused darkly. "There is no reason to believe you now."

Haku shook his head defiantly.

"I know I've made mistakes in the past, but I've changed! I _want_ to change!"

"It's too late for you to fix this."

"Killua!" Gon called out in reprimanding disbelief. "Haku-san is our friend. He's helped us a lot and it's because of him that we've been able to come up with a plan for the eruption."

"You… you said to me that you _wanted_ me to join with you," the man whispered, his tone wounded and soft. "If that's untrue, then…" He took a deep breath before his voice strengthened considerably. "…That makes _you_ the liar!"

_Haku-san told me that it's not good for you to get so close to Misaki…_

Killua tightened his fists at his side. No, he couldn't give in to the unjust urge that was pressuring him to believe that Haku was uninvolved in this plot against him…

"The world is not ending," the former assassin decided aloud between his clenched teeth. "It was all a ploy."

Haku's eyes widened.

"Of course it's true! I couldn't possibly stage such a thing!"

"L.I.G.H.T. isn't real, is it?"

"But Killua," Gon interjected, "they cleared a whole island of bodies…"

Perhaps he had a point, but even still he refused to acknowledge it. In his spiral of grief and self pity, he truly did not want to believe Haku. It was much simpler to sever their ties to him… to Misaki… and analyze their position from there on.

"Please," Haku begged gently, abandoning his frustrations. "We have less than three months to finish executing our plan. After that I'll disappear from your lives forever if you wish. Our survival, and _everyone_ else's, depends on it."

"Killua…?"

The pale boy fell silent, his arms dropping uselessly at his sides. While it appeared he was considering the man's proposal, in reality no thoughts came to him and instead he formed fractions of impressions. He stood this way, trapped inside himself and searching for an exit, until his hand brushed across his pants pocket. The material was stretched out and engorged, and he had all but forgotten about the bag of candy inside of it and he reached in to retrieve it.

His hollowed stare studied the bag in front of him quietly, as though it could reveal to him something that he did not already know. A few feet beyond, Haku and Gon were still anxiously awaiting his response.

_She was thinking about you when you weren't even around and bought you a gift!_

Killua gripped the bag tightly in his palm, his expression unchanging all the while. In a single, swift motion he tossed the bag distastefully in to the waste basket in the corner. He left his arm outstretched for a second or two following, frozen in position. Then he turned his back to Haku.

"Gon, let's go."


	43. Chapter Fourty-Two: Crossing Paths(pt 1)

The stench of sweat and stale liquor lured Misaki from the lobby of the moderately sized hotel over to the swinging door on the far left. It was accompanied by a small, tented blackboard sign with drink specials written sloppily and in shorthand. Ignoring the posting altogether, the girl slipped through the entrance-way and trudged over to the laminate counter.

The room erupted in scandalous, hushed whispers (and a few more boisterous, blatant comments) upon her arrival. Had she not been mentally preoccupied to levels of near obscenity, perhaps the girl might have borrowed a self-conscious moment to listen or care. For now, the swirling of murmurs simply acted as easily bypassed background noise to her agonizing thoughts.

They would stop soon enough, she knew, and so without endeavoring to absorb the entirety of her surroundings, Misaki tapped the countertop robotically until she caught the bartender's disapproving eye.

"Vermouth on the rocks."

The man parted his deep, pink lips as if to speak and then quickly pressed them together and folded them inward as though he had thought better of it. Shaking his head in disbelief, he wrinkled his nose and proceeded to pour the drink. When he was finished, he placed a square glass with rounded edges on the counter before her, but silently refused to remove his hand.

"Seven hundred jenny."

It was then, as her hand reached for her pocket, that Misaki was sharply woken from her daze. As her palm brushed over her backside, she realized in horror that there _was no_ pocket to be found. The rush of the night's previous sequence of events hit her perhaps harder now than before as she recalled that, in her desperation to keep Killua in sight when he had bolted from the bedroom, she had opted to grasp Haku's ratty robe in order to clothe herself quickly…

…and it was from within that very robe that she now sat upon the bar stool.

The whispers and cackles surrounding her came alive to her now, and her face blushed deep scarlet in understanding to the initial reactions of the bar's patrons. She was penniless, in a hotel pub, at two o'clock in the morning, and wearing a tattered men's housecoat with inexcusably mussed hair. Her eyes lowered and proceeded to decline her secret plea to allow herself a moment to recuperate as they spotted a large, frayed and gaping hole in the robe just below the left thigh.

Using his free hand, the bartender impatiently tapped his fingernails on the laminate surface.

The sound of coins jingling interrupted the restless drumming of nails. Misaki glanced up awkwardly just enough to spot a small, tan sack tied with thin, green rope lying next to the drink on the counter.

"Why don't you keep the change," an uncomfortably familiar, maliciously playful voice purred from behind her.

The noise from the heels of the stool dragging against the wooden floor was grating, although not quite distracting enough to deter from the realization that the man was claiming the seat directly to her right. Misaki kept her eyes low and sipped at her drink once the bartender was finally satisfied enough to release it.

"I know how I must look right now," she droned out in a defensive whisper, "but believe me when I say that I will _not_ have sex with you."

There was a brief silence, and then he chuckled out a velvety hum. Despite her desire to appear entirely uninterested in hopes that he might abandon his seat, Misaki dared to peek his way out of the corner of her eye as she tilted back her head for a longer gulp. Her mood hardened some as she managed to register a peak of red hair and a shaded emblem of a spade over the half of his top nearest to her.

'_Ah, it's you_,' she pondered sourly, meanwhile curious as to what had drawn this man to her now.

"Tsk, tsk," he teased with a grin that left Misaki uncertain of whether or not he was particularly threatening. "When someone buys you a drink, it is proper manners to thank them."

'…_And my umbrella is still in Haku's room_,' she suddenly recalled. '_Fantastic…_'

The girl frowned, suppressing a sigh as she smoothed down her disheveled strands of plum hair. She remembered this man; remembered him well.

For a moment she felt targeted and vulnerable, the way he had made her feel as a teenager when he had first approached her card table amidst the same scam she had ironically discussed with Killua the night she had taught him to play Platoon. Hell, she had even mimicked his manner at the memory of it, successfully upsetting the boys for a selfish laugh of her own.

Yet here he was, the man who had played against her and, despite her best efforts to cheat him, won. Her very next contract called for the death of a well despised millionaire, and it was after she had succeeded in this mission (showered in blood and carrying his disembodied head as per special request of her employer), that she had met with the jester a second time. She recalled the fixated glint in his yellow eyes as he'd studied her that night; the ominous aura that he'd exuded. He had told her his name as though she ought to remember it, and then asked for hers, leaving with the promise that they would have another encounter when she was "ripe".

…Was that his purpose for approaching her now?

'_What was his name again?_' she mused, rocking the glass in her hand and using the light clinking of the ice against the sides as a symphony for her thoughts. '_Something strange… something I should remember…_'

"You've…really grown up, _Misaki_," he cut in to the silence between them, using a voice that was almost taunting her, "in _body_, at least."

"I doubt you've seen enough of it to know," she argued, forcing her tone into calm.

"Is that an invitation?" He arched a brow.

"I told you already that it _wasn't_."

"Such hostility toward someone who paid for that drink you're practically inhaling. Besides, women are known to change their minds fairly often, yes?"

Misaki paused mid-swig and withdrew the glass from her lips. For the first time since his appearance she turned her head in his direction, taking the opportunity to shoot him the most unimpressed expression she could muster. This had little effect on him however, and instead she watched as a grin dripping with child-like mirth stretched over his mouth.

"Now is not a good time," she said bitterly.

He chuckled again.

"Your ridiculous choice of dress told me otherwise."

"I suppose we have _that_ in common." She scanned him up and down smugly, ceasing only once she was satisfied that he had seen her do so.

"Perhaps we have more in common that simply that," he said, his expression evolving from gleeful to serpent-like.

"Possible, but unlikely."

The girl downed the last half of her drink, and no sooner did she place the empty glass back on to the counter the man was already ordering her up another.

"Suppose I would like to call in that favor you owe me now, Misaki..."

She protested with a bit of a snort, "What favor?"

"I both bought you that drink and the last, not to mention that I've decided not to kill you while you're in such a dreadfully poor mood."

"Such great mercy," she sneered sardonically.

In reality, she was uneasy at his arrival and felt there was a frightening level of honesty in his words. Still, she was adamant to appear unscathed by his attempts to unnerve her.

"If you should like for me to provide a service, it will cost you," she explained, deadpan.

"I will gladly agree to pay you what ever amount Illumi is paying for your…services," he obliged in a sickeningly agreeable tone.

He had successfully cracked her calm exterior, at least for a noticeable moment. It was too late to retract by the time the girl realized that he had seen her falter, which he reveled in as though it were some secret weapon he had been saving for the perfect occasion and just itching to unsheathe. She studied his features with unintentionally frantic eyes as though she might be able to somehow read between the lines of his face to decipher how in the world he knew of Illumi and her contract with him. Had he, too been spying on her recently?

'_Hisoka_,' her mind whispered, his name coming to her at once through the increased wave of anxiety.

Misaki winced slightly, desiring deeply to concoct a witty reply that might be strong enough to draw the magician away from her.

Instead she found herself asking quietly, "What did you have in mind?"

His yellow eyes half disappeared behind heavy upper lids as he licked his lips in anticipation of his own response.


	44. Chapter Fourty-Three:Crossing Paths(pt2)

The magician absorbed wholly the subtleties of the girl's features, relishing in the sudden expansion and subsequent contraction of her pupils which told him the true tale of her fear. He had touched on something that she had been desperately trying to conceal, and he could taste it now as it lingered intoxicatingly in the air. He did _so_ love when the information he stored could be put to good use. In fact, he quite hoped that eventually he would be able to recapture this moment tenfold as he claimed her life…

…But not today.

Today was about a different sort of game, with an entirely separate style of strategy. He quite hoped she might prove unexpectedly resourceful and manage to hinder him from achieving his goal, as it would at least add excitement to the journey…

…And the half the fun was in the journey, after all.

"What did you have in mind?"

Her voice was but a whisper, despite her facial expression having resumed its blank and bored appearance. Now was the time to explore his suspicions and gauge her reactions.

'_I hope you won't make this __**too**__ easy for me_,' he mused, absentmindedly running his tongue between his lips.

He remembered the first time he had spotted his plum haired project entering a sleazy motel offside a secondary highway with Illumi. It had been mere months ago. At first he hadn't quite believed that this was honestly the sight he had seen, and sat waiting in secret within the bushes outside, steady and focused for hours to confirm it. Lo and behold, the following morning the two exited from the _same_ cabin albeit about ten minutes apart. He had considered confronting either of them, at the very least for the benefit of his own amusement, until a further thought had struck him, convincing him that there may be a better time and place to exploit this information.

Then Misaki had begun traveling with the boys, which seemed hardly a coincidence. Still, he kept his distance and merely checked in on the situation in between other more doubtlessly rewarding ones. That was when he noticed that Illumi had undergone a disguise and had also taken the liberty of merging with their little group…

Indeed something was in progress here, and he had reason to suspect that that '_something_' might be at his expense. It was in his best interest to inject himself into the investigation now, after months of watching and waiting patiently for an indication of foul play…

…And of course, no one could utilize the concept of "foul play" to its fullest potential like Hisoka himself.

"There is one particular little boy I was hoping to get you to take care of for me," he convincingly lied. "I hope age is not an impeding factor?"

Misaki shrugged, sipping the last of her second drink. As though it were a reflex, Hisoka waved down the bartender, indicating for him to initiate pouring a third.

"Is it an impeding factor for _you_?"

A sly smile crept across his lips as he asked, "Does it matter much to you if it is?"

"Perhaps it's premature for me to judge, but you hardly seem the type to need a third party to do your killing, Hisoka."

Feigning innocence, he replied, "I hadn't supposed _you_ would be the type to ask for my reasons. I don't suppose you gave Illumi the third degree when he hired you as well?"

"You speak as though you think you know something," she murmured in to her glass, her voice echoing inside of it. "Tell me _whom_ you want killed, at least. I'll judge from there."

He hesitated, enjoying wholly this moment of anticipation.

"A boy by the name of _Gon…_ Freecss."

The girl paused for a second between sips. Her eyes remained hollow and locked upon the floating ice cubes within the glass. For a period of time so brief it could scarce be measured, her wrist stiffened and released.

"That would be… a conflict of interest," she explained monotonously without bothering to retract the drink from her lips or meet his gaze as she spoke.

So it _was_ true… Misaki had already been hired to destroy Gon. Illumi was actively seeking a loophole with which to deceive him. Naturally he had assumed that his word was less than sincere, but the fact that he was willing to keep his word under the guise of a technicality…

'_How clever_,' Hisoka pondered, his eyes shining almost unnaturally. '_…But not quite clever enough to evade me, I'm afraid…_'

Having received so soon the knowledge he sought, the man ran his fingers through his flaming red hair before simultaneously purchasing three more drinks for the girl. He rose to his feet in a small but elegant leap, smiling a deceivably innocent grin toward Misaki.

"I suppose I will have to take care of things myself then."

With some noticeable decrease in her motor skills, the girl raised a palm in his direction to halt him.

"You made such a scene about wanting my help, and then it's not a problem at all when I turn you away?" she questioned suspiciously.

Hisoka reached for a newly prepared glass of Vermouth and passed it in to her open hand, rubbing her knuckles with his fingertips until she finally coiled her hand in reflexive distaste and accepted it.

"I won't hold it against you, Misaki," he said. "Women do tend to let their emotions get in the way, so it's probably best that I take care of my own affairs."

Before she could protest, he spun on the ball of his foot to face the exit.

Glancing back over his shoulder, he announced in a darkly seductive tone, "Don't be _too_ disappointed. We'll meet again soon."

As he cut through the small crowd and passed through the virtually empty hotel lobby, the magician quite suddenly realized something flawed about his earlier presumptions. If in fact Misaki was being hired currently to kill Gon, why was he still alive now? She had been tagging along with the boys for months, and yet no such advances seemed to have occurred. Why then was Illumi trailing them as well?

Had he made a severe miscalculation?

Drawing quiet steps out in to the silver, moonlit streets, the man borrowed a moment to pout over his dilemma. Perhaps Misaki's "too simple" answer had fooled him. Had she anticipated his game? Could it simply be that there was, for some reason he could not rationally decipher, a specific date or time that she was expected to kill Gon?

Running his thumb along his bottom lip, Hisoka smirked to himself. Perhaps he had obtained enough information to at least make some form of sense out of his observations. Until then he would simply continue to monitor the situation and pull out the aces when hour of destiny approached him.

After all, his conversation with Misaki had proven far too simple to be especially exciting, and so he needed to make up for his losses somehow.


	45. Chapter Fourty-Four: Endurance

A long, out of tune horn spliced through the silence of first light. Hordes of brightly dressed people poured onto the dock from the large boat, milling about aimlessly and adding the sounds of intertwining chatter to the sleeping world they had arrived in. An air of excitement filled their midst, claiming the atmosphere each way they ventured.

Just beyond the loading docks (upon the sandy and mildly inclined shoreline) sat two boys. Neither spoke, each with a different string of thoughts possessing his mind and posture. The silver haired boy's knees were clutched to his chest, folded arms encasing them. His chin was lowered and tucked away from sight as he pondered his predicament. Anxiety and unrelenting torment seeped from his very flesh they seemed so unnaturally animate, with a fixed knot of guilt acting as the shackles which bound these things together as one entity. Guilt he knew not what was for, but nevertheless a definite sheath of guilt.

The second boy's thoughts were perhaps a little more concrete. His tanned legs were crossed at the ankles, leaving a reasonable platform with which to set his limp hands and elbows. The small stirring of crustacean life around the banks and in the sand borrowed the focus of his brown eyes while his mind worked to connect the dots of the days past. He pondered the legitimacy of L.I.G.H.T., of Haku and Misaki, and of his and Killua's current strategy. He considered his friend's sudden imbalance, and struggled to uncover its inspiration.

"Killua…"

His voice was ridden with a small sense of guilt that, having been feeling a similar sensation himself, the blue eyed boy glanced up in response to.

"I've been thinking… L.I.G.H.T. is not pretend. A bunch of people died on the island… They didn't know about Tanzanite, but those people who showed up after did."

Killua said nothing, only listened.

"So if L.I.G.H.T. is real, that means that the under water volcano is real. Everyone _could_ really die."

'_I could endure anything with you_…' Killua thought, fighting to ignore his overwhelming misery.

"…And if people really could die, then I think we have a responsibility to at least _try_ to save them."

'_…Even the fires of hell. I'd sacrifice myself to save you from the beaks that would threaten to pick your flesh…_'

"We shouldn't just run away, Killua."

The former assassin now lifted his chin, arching his neck in his comrade's direction. Perhaps Gon's words could have seemed motivational to him had they not been spoken so softly and skeptically. He was being cautious because of Killua's fragile emotional state, and the boy recognized this. Unfortunately this served to feed into his shroud of self pity, reminding him that he was weak and needed careful approach in order to lessen the risk of setting him off or breaking him entirely.

'_No… only I will go to hell. Gon… you shine too brightly for a world born of darkness…_'

The brown eyes were gentle and pleading. It was then that the paler boy understood the nature of his partner's speech; that he was not simply requesting that the two linger at their present location rather than escape to no-man's-land. It was not at all a suggestion for them as a pair, but to Killua as an individual.

'_You're staying_,' he realized with a painful tightening within his already damaged mind. '_You're staying here even if I'm not…_'

"Gon…"

Even Gon would leave him eventually, he now comprehended. Gon would disappear, and he would be forever alone. No, not alone…because Illumi would never allow it. Illumi would always remain. He could die, and somehow Illumi's curse would follow him even into the lowliest pits of the underworld, or lie in waiting to consume him if so he managed to land there first.

Only the damned could ever truly eternally dwell amongst the damned, perhaps.

If Killua had not felt so formidably burnt out on his fate, he might have wept. Instead, his muscles clenched against his will, slowly wearing on his body the way his emotions and thoughts had been draining the strength of his mental capacity.

"I want you to stay with me," Gon said, his voice braver than before. "Fight with me, Killua."

…But he _wanted_ him to stay. Did that change the scenario?

Gon would not follow him if he escaped… but he did express his desire for the pair to cling to one another. Was he abandoning him? No… no, he was not.

'_He's giving me a choice_,' Killua realized, a warmth threatening to offend his cold and dismal mood. '_Gon is letting me have a choice instead of telling me what to do_.'

Somehow this was almost enough. Perhaps not enough to dispel his agony, fear, or confused guilt… but enough to matter. Enough for _him_ to matter…

Before he could escape it and allow himself to further wallow dreadfully and (in his opinion) _righteously_ in a cesspool of shame and inherited liability, Gon's light had touched him. Once again, he was a moth drawn to the light, where ever it so traveled.

'_A moth is still an insect_,' he reminded himself through a small, sad smile.

"I'll fight with you, Gon."

The tanned boy's expression brightened and lifted.

"You will?"

"I will."

The dark haired boy beamed, leaning back into open palms and tenting his knees for the sake of comfort. His chin raised to intake the sight of the rising sun over the waves and distantly running white peaks of water.

"I'm so glad! I feel so lucky to have you as a friend, Killua!"

Killua followed his friend's gaze over the water, the sound of gulls seeking their meals reaching him as if from within a far away dream.

'_You're wrong… I'm the one… who owes everything to you_.'

The world was filthy, cold, and unforgiving… but… perhaps there was at least a _chance_ to defy fate, if only _slightly_. If anyone could prove that with him, anyone at all, Killua knew that it was Gon.

'_Let's do it. Let's defy the world. I can endure… anything with you._'

* * *

**A/N: I've been feeling pretty low, the last couple of days especially, so I hope that my personal problems did not interrupt the flow of the story. I just felt that I could either write this chapter and try to channel it into my writing or risk abandoning this story altogether in order to wallow in my own self pity. Obviously the latter option would not be my first choice, so I can only hope that my emotions for the time being do not destroy the plot or characters. Please forgive me if I've done so unintentionally.**

**I apologize if this note is sounding more like a whiny diary entry than a relevant message. I just wanted to explain myself in case I'm viewing this chapter through tinted glasses and cannot see how out of place it might possibly be.  
**


	46. Chapter Fourty-Five: Fraud

The greater part of morning had managed to seep past before Killua managed to truly absorb the sights and sounds which surrounded him. It was as though he had been encased within a bubble-like barrier, having no direct access to his senses and those things that sought to stimulate them. He woke from this trance-like dream to find that he and Gon were already nearly back at Haku's residence. The city was alive with rustling, voices, and shoes pattering against concrete.

Try as he may, Killua could not fully connect to his mind, either. The night prior was quickly turning into a dream-like blur as his rogue emotions fought with and against his subconscious to suppress the pain and make reality more bearable. Every so often he felt phantom, deliberately positioned hands on his shoulders, as though the memory of Misaki alone was enough to allow her ghostly figment to kneel before him the way she had done previously.

He nearly softened at this, despite his severe resistance to such a notion, and it was then that his mind loudly whispered his eldest brother's name, over and over, in the girl's heated voice. Once his mood had relapsed and hardened toward the lure of Illumi's puppet, as he knew that it ought to, the boy channeled his purposeful rejection into determination.

'_We'll show them all, Gon. Every last one of them…_'

As they approached the empty door frame, the boy narrowed his blue eyes and immediately ceased his patterned footfalls. Haku had, he felt, been uninvolved with the plot against him. Perhaps even if he _had_ participated in some miniscule way or at least had been _aware_ of the scheme, it was quite obvious that the man's primary goals honestly were reserved for the preservation of life. _Now_, at least…

"Haku-san!"

Was it too late to feel remorse for the manner in which he had treated the bespectacled man's honest attempt to atone for his previous act of selfishness? Did this now mean that he was the one who, in spite of everything, was responsible for correcting his own poor judgment at the expense of _Haku's_ feelings?

"Ah, Gon! Come in!"

The tanned boy smiled toward his friend before entering. Killua hung back for a long moment or two with his fingers coiled around the door frame and his eyes low to the ground. He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, wrinkling his nose and becoming suddenly alert as he caught the unmistakable scent of death.

'_We're here to challenge fate. I __**have**__ to prove that all with you…_'

With this reminder lingering within his head, the paler boy stepped inside. It appeared that Gon and Haku had already met ground, and were amidst conversing. About what, the former assassin had not at all consumed himself with either before he had physically entered the house or even as he stood before them.

Haku's eyes were calm and unmarred by bother or concern. His lips donned a small smile as he politely nodded to Gon's words. It was almost as though he had not been affected by Killua's outburst prior, despite the unwavering hurt he had openly displayed upon receiving it.

'_He's so focused on his mission that he doesn't have time to be slowed down by criticism_,' Killua noted, although somehow his instincts seemed to disagree with his forced admiration. He swallowed them down and opted to ignore them, partially by the unexplained guilt which still opposed and enveloped his sense of worth.

Gon and Haku chatted almost carelessly through the day considering the dire time limit imposed upon them, and still Killua was too preoccupied within himself to really hear them. The faint but distinct stench of a fresh corpse continued to reach him, and more disturbingly, appeared to be rooted from this same room.

Finally, as late afternoon arrived, the man indirectly addressed Killua.

"Gon, why don't you wash up for lunch, and I'll entertain Killua."

The boy easily agreed and rushed to the washroom, closing the door behind him.

Haku clasped his fingers together, adjusting himself opposite of Killua, and smiled.

"I knew you would be back," he said.

Killua avoided the man's hard gaze, his shoulders slumping inward.

"I-… _Gon_ insisted we help you…"

"That's unsurprising. Gon is a willful boy."

The silver haired boy said nothing in response and simply pieced together and reworded several apologetic lines in his head, hoping to find one that sounded reasonable. Still, he failed to vocalize any of them.

"It's _you_ I've been waiting for, anyway."

"Me…?"

Haku stood, walking slowly and deliberately toward Killua as he spoke. His voice was uncharacteristically confident and filled to the brim with authority.

"You have a lot of potential… I've always known that. Gon has a certain… quality about him that I suppose is endearing to some… but _you're_ the one with true ability. I'm sure you know that, too. You're wasting it here."

Killua shifted uncomfortably. Something was wrong, though he was hard pressed to pinpoint whether or not it was simply within his own mind. Yet…Haku had always respected Gon, particularly during his search for redemption… hadn't he?

'_Gon-kun…I've made such a mess, and at the expense of your lives…'_

The reek of rotting flesh grew stronger. Haku cupped Killua's shoulder in his hand.

_Gon-kun…_

"You know what you need to do, don't you?"

Killua studied the wide, staring eyes before instinctively pulling his shirt over his nose to avoid gagging at the smell of decomposing flesh.

Haku had never touched him before…

Was Haku the type to touch anyone…?

The man leaned in uncomfortably close.

"Gon…" Killua called out uncertainly.

"You can't depend on Gon…"

_Gon-__**kun**__…_

"Go back home, Kil'. Do what it is in your nature to do."

The sensation of unapologetic vulnerability hit him hard as Killua acted entirely on his intuition. He roughly kicked Haku's chest, sending the man flying backward over the small coffee table and tumbling uselessly onto the floor. A painful _crack_ erupted as his skull hit the wooden floor. Discolored blood seeped from the open wound.

Haku stood up, unfazed and stinking horribly. The blood continued to flow.

"Gon!"

"You're a killer. You can't escape your fate."

The boy withdrew a step. Haku smiled and advanced one.

"You're not…" Killua started, his wide eyes racing frantically over the man.

In lieu of completing the thought aloud, he turned and ran from the house. His legs seemed to make this decision for him, as his mind was at once frantically overloaded and unnervingly still.

"See how you run, leaving your 'friend' behind?" Haku's voice called from the doorway.

With tears free-flowing now from his eyes, the silver haired boy forced his fleeing body to collapse on the grass between the trees, thankfully away from prying eyes.

"You're incapable of friendship," Illumi's voice said to him.

It took a moment for Killua to realize that he had not imagined hearing his brother speak in this instant, and by the time he skeptically glanced up it was too late and Illumi had already managed to position himself less than three meters away.

A sharp _thud_ interrupted the boy's overwhelming vulnerability and fear, and his eyes landed upon an object that had managed to wedge itself between the siblings and had nearly punctured Illumi's foot.

The younger boy stared, stunned and mildly disoriented, as the umbrella dislodged its tip from the dirt and sailed purposefully back into the hand of its owner, poised and ready, from atop an overlooking tree branch.


	47. Chapter Fourty-Six: Awake and Dreaming

With a clouded head and a stagger in her walk, Misaki had finally decided to return to Haku's residence and borrow his bed once again to drift off into sleep. Rather to say, the girl (in her drunken stupor) could see the black curtain falling over her drooping eyes and feel the enormous weight to her muscles and, without the guidance of any real clarity, stumbled back to the only place she could think of that was appropriate given the circumstances to pass out.

Only very small sort of thoughts came to her, and at a rate that was so incredibly gradual that she nearly forgot the entire notion by the time it was completed in her mind. She remembered that her umbrella was back in the bedroom and that she needed to retrieve it, as it was very important to her and really the only memento she owned other than her father's bandana that tied her at all to her past. After all, her mother had purchased it for her on a particularly rainy day when she had been only about five or six, and in lieu of her days being filled with admittedly more physical labor than innocent play, she had been given an "adult umbrella" as opposed to the child-like ones at the stand next to it.

The day Misaki had left home at ten, it had been raining profusely. At the time it had seemed nothing more than common sense to collect her parasol from its own little hook by the front door. She couldn't have known then that her simple possession would later become an intricate role as far as developing her own ability. Certainly now she could replace it with another just like it, but realistically it was obvious to her that it would not hold the same power that this specific umbrella did; her emotional attachment was to _this one_ specifically, and no other could ever encourage the same degree of vigor.

Plum hair hung in thick, stingy clumps across the off-white pillowcase, the disturbed covers tucked beneath the girl's unconscious body, as she had been far too weary to bother slipping between them. Her lips were agape, more so than usual, and she breathed heavily through her mouth as she slumbered. She dreamed in spurts, though truthfully she disliked having done so.

* * *

The first sequence set a strange mood that even within the vision she failed to properly identify. A woman with a familiar scent and an unclear, hazy face stood over her, softly sweeping loose strands of hair from Misaki's face. The amber eyed girl herself was lying flat on her back upon a thick cut of plywood. The room was simple and uninteresting and empty. Muted colors surrounded her.

"Would you like me to restrain you?" the woman asked soothingly. "I thought you might prefer it."

Misaki blinked, her head feeling pleasantly fuzzy. She nodded slowly.

"Yes, I suppose it would be for the best."

The woman steadily worked her way around the wooden platform, retrieving shackles from somewhere beneath it and gently but firmly fastening her wrists and ankles. When she was done, she leaned in and tenderly kissed the girl's cheek. The lady's lips were warm, and her hair smelled of the Berraudney forest. A rush of nostalgic and useless vanities filled Misaki's head for a moment or two.

"I'll be waiting for you upstairs," the woman explained. "If you struggle, it'll take longer, you know."

Misaki shook her head and smiled.

"Oh, not to worry; I wouldn't do that."

The woman exited through a door that the girl could have sworn hadn't been there a mere minute ago.

* * *

Lifting her heavy eyelids, she found herself back in Haku's bed. Still unshakably weary, she rolled onto her stomach, drifting off to the scent of Illumi's hair which lingered still on the second pillow which was now folded into the crook of her elbow.

* * *

A warm rush of air glided over her flesh, making her feel cold by comparison. As she glanced down, she realized that she was stripped bare now, her wrist and ankle restraints still secured. There was nothing to do but stare up at the ceiling, which was somehow less interestingly decorated than even just simple white would have been.

She shivered as the sensation of the very ends of soft hair tickled her hips and navel. Grinning foolishly, she rolled her neck exaggeratedly to the side. The cuffs had transformed into woven strands of midnight hair. Glancing up, she locked stares with two ominous, depthless black eyes. No physical body was present however, but she wouldn't struggle, regardless.

It would take longer if she struggled.

Instead, she ran her tongue under her top lip and rolled her head back, eagerly awaiting the assault. The scent overwhelmed her, smothered her, until she could no longer form coherent thoughts.

* * *

Misaki nearly mistook the sun's setting for its rising when she woke next, but she simply could not awaken yet. It was too soon. She was too terribly drained. Moaning softly, she turned the opposite direction onto her side, drawing her knees in closer to her chest. The last thought that crossed her mind as she slipped away once more was that her hiking boots were still hugging to her feet. She would have to remember to take them off next time, perhaps…

* * *

She was no longer a girl. Misaki was a woman now. Her body was raw and tied soundly between long, ebony locks of bodiless hair, but she was indeed a woman. The hair covered her like clothing, keeping her breasts from full exposure.

As she strolled down a dimly lit corridor, searching for the path upstairs, she happened upon a silver haired boy. He too had been stripped naked and was concealed by only the black strands of hair. They even covered his mouth, preventing him from speaking to her even while his eyes pleaded desperately when they met with her gaze.

Curious and well aware that she was risking her own safety, Misaki slipped her fingers between his pale flesh and the contrasting dark fibers. Their hold was strong, but she was persistent. Slowly but surely, she began to unwind the tightly coiled strings.

He gasped for air once his mouth was free; falling into her arms as though they had been somehow supporting his weight as well.

"You can't save me, you know," he said finally, shuttering and keeping his eyes low. "It'll find me again; it _always_ finds me."

Misaki stroked his hair to soothe him. Some of the long, raven strands had embedded themselves right into his skull. Leaning in closer to inspect this, she plucked them one by one, pinching each individual line between her fingernails. She squinted in order to confirm that the white root had indeed been removed.

"They'll just grow back," he protested.

She tilted his chin upward and kissed his lips to silence him. He tasted young and pure, and she resisted the urge to consume him wholly. The very tip of his tongue touched to her bottom lip and then retreated, as though encouraging her to corrupt him at her own free will. It was tempting… _too_ tempting. She allowed his hair to fill her fist, yanking at it just enough to cause him noticeable pain.

* * *

Misaki woke abruptly. Her body was fevered and dewy with sweat and locks of plum hair adhered to both her forehead and the nape of her neck. She stretched her limbs, forcing herself to release the image of Killua from her head and the phantom touch of his lips against hers from her consciousness.

She despised herself as she trudged across to the shower, ignoring the putrid stench of recent death which haunted the hallway as she passed through. There had been a time that she was so confident in her ability to curb her own emotions and urges. She might have sworn up and down that her capacity to suppress these concepts was far superior to most.

Now everything had changed. Her body appeared to be the one spiraling out of control as if it were a completely separate entity from that of her mind. She loathed Illumi for what she knew he had done to her, and yet her body still craved him. Killua was hardly a part of her contract at all; simply an adolescent baggage on top of all the others, and nevertheless her physical need to have him was undeniable.

'_You're a fool, Misaki_,' she hissed mentally, her head tilted down and motionless under the spray of the shower. '_Your body cannot know better than your mind. That was Illumi's game… Stop playing it._'

While she hated to admit it, the girl was at a loss over what to do. She exhaled a long breath, reaching desperately for comfort in familiarity and routine.

As it happened, the answer was there all along. She forced her shoulders back, narrowing her stare from behind a wall of running water, too distracted to feel the intensity of it upon her unsheathed eyes. There was something habitual she could indulge herself in still, now that she had certainly been betrayed.

'_I have… a score to settle_,' Misaki realized, clenching her fists.


	48. Chapter Fourty-Seven:Let Battle Commence

The soil was shockingly cool as it filled Killua's open palms and likewise cradled his raw knees. He widened his eyes as Misaki hopped down from the tree branch, weapon at the ready in her closed hand, landing between himself and Illumi while defensively facing the latter. He simply could not understand her purpose for arriving here, and particularly in the manner she had revealed herself. It had almost seemed as if she were posing a…

"Stand aside," Illumi ordered, completely unshaken by her presence.

Her voice was Novocain-injected; numb, unfeeling; "I shall be your opponent."

…challenge to Illumi?

Killua exhaled audibly and shakily. His next breath came in too sharp, something like a painful gasp. Misaki glanced marginally over her shoulder at the silver haired boy. Her amber eyes were different than he'd ever seen them before. They were hardened and callous.

"Leave," she commanded him monotonously.

The boy opened his mouth to speak and then closed it halfway when no words flowed to his mind or his lips.

Angling her head ever so slightly, the girl insisted, "Go to your friend and do what you have to do."

"Why are you…?" The question, he realized, had come from him.

"If I see Gon again, I'll kill him."

"You…!"

His instincts had attempted all at once to oppose her. There was a frightening amount of honesty in her words, and he recalled her stating previously how seriously she considered such things. Even if all her tales had been nothing more than laced up fallacies to fool him, Killua was certain that her approach to battle was not one of them. No, she meant what she said now…

…But then, why was she giving them a _chance_ to escape; Killua from Illumi and Gon from her?

Bringing his right leg forth, he used his bent knee to endure the weight as he pushed himself back up and onto his feet. He did this slowly so as not to tempt either Misaki or Illumi to potentially take the offense against him. Initially the boy simply backed away so he was not left entirely vulnerable, and then halted as a thought struck him.

'_What if she just wants me to lead her to Gon_?'

"Tell your brother to leave," she said to Illumi, "or I will kill him now."

As quickly as she had uttered the warning, Misaki was behind the blue eyed boy, crushing him with expertly placed limbs restricting his.

Before Killua could locate an escape route, Illumi announced, "Go, Kil'."

The sound of his eldest brother's voice immediately had his feet moving, and it was not until he had nearly cleared the small patch of forest completely that the former assassin recognized that he had effectively left the scene and that Misaki was no longer restraining him. He allowed his legs to carry him toward Haku's residence, inwardly praying that Gon was safe and still in fact inside.

'_She'll never win if she fights him_,' he found himself thinking as the previous events replayed over again from somewhere behind his open eyes.

* * *

Illumi cocked his head at the narrowed, spiteful eyes of the girl. He let out a small, rare smile and said, "This might be the most interesting thing you've ever done."

With an unchanging expression, she countered, "You don't know everything that I've done. Fight or die; make your choice now."

Admittedly Illumi was fairly surprised at the notion of Misaki issuing him a challenge. Perhaps he had not spent long enough cultivating her before unleashing her unto his will… particularly if she was so obviously opposed to a task as simple as destroying a simple, young boy. Yet here she was, alternately in favor of engaging in a match that could clearly be her demise simply to avoid a much easier deal.

"You would prefer to fight me than to kill that boy?" he asked, honestly curious but refusing to allow his tone to reflect anything less than completely controlled.

Never removing her stare from his, Misaki replied, "One has nothing to do with the other."

"Then what is so difficult about-…?"

"You talk too much. Fight or die; I won't tell you again."

A thought occurred to him just then, and one that seemed to intrigue him further and further the more he entertained it.

"I am willing to release you from the contract," he explained slowly, "so long as you admit now that you cannot complete it for me as arranged."

Her glare refused to leave him, unfazed, as she drew back her collapsed umbrella and muttered, "To arms, then."

Her first strike, as Illumi determined with undistorted ease, was not thrown with the intention of dealing him damage. Rather, he realized that Misaki had first and foremost planned to rouse him, most likely to ensure that he would in fact meet her demand for combat. Instinctively he disliked this, and as the nen- enhanced boot (as she had not even opted yet to use her weapon) came down hard toward the left of his chest, he prepared a simple defensive maneuver through the use of _Ko_ at his forearm and easily deflected the attack with a firm shrug of his biceps. She executed a somewhat wobbly aerial roll as her body was sent tumbling backwards from the force.

He had not wanted to kill her so quickly; especially while the contract was outstanding, but he decided that perhaps humoring her could essentially convince her to give him what he desired. Withdrawing a handful of needles, he carelessly tossed them toward her.

She dodged them easily with a right-ways roll; then using the ball of her foot to push off and launch herself at him again. Misaki hurled her umbrella at him midway, though a simple side step rendered him unscathed. As her body reached him, she aimed her knuckles for his throat, but was stopped as he caught her fist in his perfectly placed palm.

He swung his own fist with his free hand at her exposed abdomen. Much to his surprise it seemed that this was the reaction she had actually envisioned, and she lined up her right foot to step upon the hand and use the momentum of his attack to throw her upwards in the air. It wasn't until he understood that, while essentially above him, there was a purpose to Misaki opening her palm and reaching out into the air that he was able to identify his sudden need to defend.

Unfortunately he was slightly too late, and the umbrella which had passed him earlier came flying back to the girl's hand, hindered only by its momentary collision the back of his left shoulder. He felt the blood flowing from the wound, albeit still a fairly shallow one comparative to the damage that she _could_ have done if she had fully taken advantage of him then, and tilted his head at her once again as she touched down.

'_She's gotten faster_,' he noted.

Then a more interesting thought reached him.

Supposing that Misaki could have used his nonchalant attitude toward her to ultimately cause him severe harm in a more vulnerable area rather than just this slight blow to a fairly durable spot, she had purposely refrained from doing so.

'_She's hesitant to kill me,_' he thought, feeling powerful once again.

In an instant she was on the offense again, using the trunks of nearby trees to ricochet from in order to appear unpredictable. Unfortunately her determination to focus her eyes distinctly and hatefully upon him at all times was all too easy for Illumi to see through, and as she descended upon him with a few carefully thought out combination moves, his image before her vanished. It had been a rouse to lure her over, and she had fallen for an echoed vision of him rather than the real thing.

Realizing that she had foolishly shortsighted herself through her own obsessive fixation on his form, Misaki activated _Ken_ in a desperate attempt to defend herself. Nevertheless, she was met with an agonizing shot to the ribs with enough vigor to propel her violently into a far tree. The pain was terrible and she was quite certain that at least one of her ribs must have cracked or broken, though she gritted her teeth and disallowed herself to give Illumi the satisfaction of seeing the true effects of his strategy on her.

A shower of pins blocked her sight of him, and given the circumstances she tossed herself forward, flat onto the ground, in order to avoid them. As if out of nowhere, his figure was descending on her. Rolling on to her back, she kicked up toward his navel with all her might. The connection was made, and despite the gratification she felt as a few drops of his blood trickled down on her face from his lips, her victory was short-lived. As Misaki rocked sideways to make a grasp for the weapon she'd dropped when she had fallen, she realized that her arms were locked in place and impaled just enough that she hadn't initially felt the impact- from the curve of her shoulders to the crook of her elbows.

Illumi stood over her, studying her. Between his fingers he held three more needles.

"I don't have to kill you now," he explained.

Her eyes grew colder. He relished in the sight for a moment before continuing.

"I have no objections to reasoning out an agreement that suits the both of us."

Misaki's eyes softened for a moment before she sucked in a small puddle of his blood that was lingering near her mouth, and then spat it back toward him distastefully.

He stared quietly at her reddened, wet lips for a minute or two before he swung one leg to the opposite side of the girl, now towering above her virtually helpless figure.

"Tell me one thing," he said. "What is it about that boy that stops you from killing him?"

Misaki blinked hollowly a couple of times before she grinned and laughed loudly, deeply, richly… and as amused as she was by the question, Illumi was equally as morbidly confused by her response.


	49. Chapter Fourty-Eight: Fanning the Fire

Between the trees (echoing in elongated ripples of bemused gasps) came the seemingly never-ending cycle of hysteric laughter. At first it had come as a surprise even to Misaki, although after a short while of this her lungs ached and her entire midsection begged for release from the confines of its invisible prison (particularly in the region where she supposed her either cracked or broken rib was situated). Yet, even once the novelty of the question- the foolish, foolish question- had effectively worn thin, still the expression continued. She fought her own reflex in an attempt to catch her breath, the coy smile refusing to fall away even at her own will and beckoning.

Still, there was an inarguable convenience to her reaction that Misaki could not have premeditated. Standing above her with his head cocked curiously to one side was Illumi, who had not further motioned to proceed with any sort of fatal advance. While she was uncertain whether her laughter had confused and thrown him off guard or if he was simply confident in his ability to draw the answers he sought from her lips before ultimately issuing her demise, one thing was definite.

She had somehow managed to buy herself some time.

Not willing to take even a second of this miraculous gift for granted, the girl's mind raced to analyze her situation thoroughly enough to find a reasonable solution. There was no time to waste on hasty panicking or any other sort of involuntary response to trauma. Control was the culprit all along and now was the appropriate circumstance for her to exercise it without Illumi's insistent interference.

"That boy… is nothing to me," she chuckled, opting to use the dreaded technique of chatter amidst combat to her advantage.

…But how could she possibly dislodge the array of needles to free her arms without the risk of tearing through tissues? If that was the case, she would almost certainly bleed out profusely, and a time limit would be imposed upon her ability to take him down at the definite expense of her life.

Not that she was particularly concerned about dying; not exactly. Even in her thirst for revenge and freedom was the underlying notion that if she should die in combat, it ought to be with Illumi, and if she could manage to kill him before she fell, all the better.

'_We'll die here together, you son of a bitch,_' she vowed between other more rational thoughts, and was careful to ensure that she had held eye contact- looking at and through him- as she mentally said so.

"All this time you've watched… and not really seen," she said, ever so slowly unfolding her palm in preparation for the strike. "I always consid-…"

Purposely seizing the opportunity to use the element of surprise, Misaki's umbrella obediently swooped toward her open hand. Unfortunately for her, Illumi had fallen for such a trick earlier in the battle, and was not one to be so easily fooled by such uncreative use of skill. He dropped backward in an instant, catching the bulk of his weight in his hands and arms as his back arched and formed an inverted "U".

Still, the situation was not hopeless. In order for Illumi to avoid the attack with this method, he had no choice but to position the majority of his body over Misaki's completely free legs and feet. With a partial application of aura, the girl bent back her boot enough to execute a swift kick to his spine with the ball of her foot.

Upon contact there was a wonderfully gratifying, splitting sort of sound, and his body jerked and even lifted off the ground entirely from the sheer force of the attack. Even so, Illumi had apparently foreseen the possibility of this scenario with frighteningly rapid clarity, as he had likewise protected the exposed area through _Ko_ before the girl had managed to land her hit. In a slightly less than elegant display, he redirected his fall rearwards while still in midair and landed on his feet, borrowing a brief moment to readjust his spine manually to a chorus of cracking bones and squishy, shifting muscle tissue.

The very idea that Illumi was willing to take his time enough to fix himself up awakened both a violent rage and painful realization in Misaki. She understood better than ever that now…even _still_… he was not taking her seriously. This battle was not a life or death possibility to him, but rather a mild inconvenience… more akin to something like a mosquito bite than a guillotine. He _could_ kill her now, he could at least _try_. Nevertheless he was clearly biding his time for a while under the impression that she was not any real threat or challenge to him. She was a simple puppet that he was willing to let dance without her strings for brief period of time until it was decided that he needed her again.

Swallowing her anger, pride, and any sort of hesitance that had previously hindered her performance, Misaki felt the adrenaline claim her wholly.

'_No more warnings… no more games..._'

Opening her parasol, she hooked the arced claws of the umbrella frame below the decorative knobs of the pins which restricted her opposite arm, heaving the contraption by the handle with a persistent twist of the wrist. The needles came free, and without bothering to care whether or not Illumi had managed to either pick up those three pins he had been forced to drop previously in order to evade or had perhaps even drawn out more, she repeated the process on her right arm. Through her callousness, she did not notice the trickling of blood and the shredded chunk of skin and tissue which hung limply from her right bicep as a result of her blinded hastiness.

Rocking backwards, she used the subsequent forward momentum to launch her onto her feet once more, digging the grips of her soles into the dirt to assist her balance while she suffered the typical effects of rushing blood suddenly descending her body once more. Even amidst the duration of her tinted vision, Misaki collapsed the umbrella and charged at the silhouette before her, hoping with everything she had that he might be just arrogant enough to withhold his own offense until she nearly reached him.

Her wish was (to her good fortune) granted, and as the girl finally stepped within the final meter of the gap which separated them, Illumi dodged and stabbed at the girl's open and vulnerable left side with the aura-enhanced heel of his hand. Misaki was thrilled at his response, both since it was more or less the reaction she had anticipated and for the control that she felt over him- though more specifically over his movement- for the very first time while in his presence. In one swift motion, she thrusted forth the tip of her umbrella below the cover of her opposite arm and opened it.

Although she could not initially see beyond the limits of the parasol and therefore was unable to fully enjoy the fruits of her labor, Misaki was admittedly pleased to (once she had managed to turn completely to face his direction again) discover the effect her plot had cursed him with. He was a good five or so meters back from where she was positioned, and his left hand (which he had used in his purposely lazy attempt to strike) was bent considerably too far back over the top of his wrist. Blood pumped out of a generously sized tear in his flesh at the base, spitting out in noticeable spurts in tune to his heartbeat.

Despite his appearance of indifference, as though the break neither pained nor burdened him, Misaki enjoyed her small victory. Still, she decidedly could not let this advancement in their little arrangement distract her. There was far more at stake now, and even while his soulless eyes concealed this fact, his now slightly more ominous aura told her the truth. He comprehended the honesty of her spoken intentions at this moment; that she was willing to fight until the last breath, whether that be hers or his own. Perhaps both…

She had naturally assumed that the vigor in her actions had revealed this to him in spite of the fact that he had actually read it in her eyes. Her stare unveiled that of one who could no longer be broken, who was _already_ broken, and thus did not give heed to matters such as mortality and emotional wealth. No, the only expression was that of loathing and the desire to destroy.

He had seen this in her before, if only just a glimmer here and there. It was back in those first encounters they had shared that this had been so obviously apparent, between her fear and curiosity over him. Yes, that was it… even the first night they had engaged sexually, it had been there- so raw, so clear… She wanted him… all of him. Misaki loved him so much, so painfully, that she hated him and wanted to kill him.

Even just during the length of this exchange thus far, something had changed. At first the girl lacked the strength or will to attack him with real killing intent. Now here she was, promising him with her glare that she would sacrifice everything just to end him.

With a sequence of lazy snapping sounds, Illumi realigned his wrist and hand. Misaki could have stopped his strike without opening her parasol, but he knew that she had premeditated the damage she had caused. It was a final indication that the real battle only just starting.

Admittedly he was intrigued by this prospect, enough so that he forgot himself; forgot his carefully plotted strategy...

…But he didn't forget his trump card, and now was perhaps the ideal time to play it.

"I have a supposition to run by you." A small, knowing smile touched his lips as he shifted openly out of his defensive stance in order to approach her. He lifted his palms to show that they were indeed free of weapons as he added (impassively but confidently), "Feel free to come kill me if I happen to be wrong at any time…"


	50. Chapter Fourty-Nine: Uncovered

While his rate of travel was nearly proficient enough to be considered inhuman, Killua found that nevertheless the trip back to Haku's dwelling seemed infinite in length. With only his thoughts to accompany him, the journey instantly became littered with so many worst case scenarios that he could scarce keep up with his own thoughts. Unfortunately, the ideas still emitted more than enough realism to him even through half completion that he did manage to experience the effects as though he had been able to fully ponder the possibilities one by one. Panic struck him first hard and then harder until he had reached the open door frame followed by the ghosts of his own frantic assumptions, a mixture of both practical and delusional in nature.

"Gon-…!"

As it happened, there was no need to cry out for his friend. Not three steps into the doorway, he was immediately greeted by two things; the stench of rotting and death, and the sight of Gon knelt before Haku's faced down, bloody and lifeless corpse.

The sight of the body startled him slightly, perhaps due to the fact that amidst the earlier confrontation Killua had not fully considered that Haku was actually dead, and what that truly meant in any and all regards. All their easy ties to geological knowledge had been suddenly severed, leaving them virtually helpless against the wrath of the earth.

For Gon, it appeared there was more to be lost than simply that. No tears escaped him, despite the agony reflected in his eyes. Agony and confusion… he could not understand what had precisely happened or why, and Killua swallowed down the guilty lump that formed in his throat as he wondered whether admitting the whole truth to Gon earlier might have possibly spared Haku his life and Gon this terrible moment. After all, it was inconceivable to the former assassin that Haku was killed for any reason other than because of him. In that way, he felt as though the murder was therefore his fault, and thus Gon's reactions now were caused indirectly but inexcusably by him…

The tanned boy's eyes ran over the bluing skin and the significantly moist, pierced, and concaved section of skull where the red-brown fluid had openly leaked from the wound.

"He…" The boy paused to ball his fists and lower his chin before continuing. "…He only wanted to make it up to us. How could this happen…?"

Killua's gaze dropped, falling in line with a familiar handful of small, decorative knobs protruding from the higher region of the deceased man's neck, partially concealed by his dark hair. While of course he had known that Illumi's influence had been present earlier, actually seeing evidence of it now was somehow even more upsetting.

Haku had never been his favorite person but… he supposed that Gon was right. His aim had ultimately been redemption, and because of Illumi he would never be able to reap the benefits that all his hard work had to offer. Still, Killua felt guilty both in reference to his last exchange with the man and for his unwitting involvement in his murder. Opportunities seemed to be passing him by quite rapidly these days, with painful finalities that could never be rewound.

With a strange blend of sympathy, empathy, and apathy plaguing him consecutively and on loop, his hand found its way to his grieving friend's shoulder, wanting to both soothe him and exorcise him entirely from this state. If Gon could not accept Haku's demise, then Killua by extension could not either… but meanwhile the paler boy did want to accept it, if for no other reason then simply because he felt an incredibly overwhelming amount of regret, shame, and self loathing already. His conscience could only hold so much…

"Killua…"

His blue eyes lifted at the sudden resolve underlying in his comrade's tone.

"…Haku-san didn't deserve this."

He knew where this was going.

"What about the eruption?"

This hindered the tanned boy for a moment. Finally he stood, still facing away; facing Haku.

"Haku-san… I'll find out who did this to you." His voice was but a determined whisper.

"Gon…"

With that, the slightly younger boy irrationally dashed through the empty front door frame and into the night, Killua gaining on him from behind with Misaki's warning echoing in his head between each footfall.

* * *

The severity of the risk Illumi was taking now coupled with the immense degree of confidence he seemed to hold in his supposed theory did succeed in causing Misaki to hesitate. At the same time, she was sure to keep full reign on her posture and expressions, not willing to allow her physical body even a moment's time in which to betray her. In truth she found his course of action foolish and reckless, for what was to stop her from attacking him simply through her just desire to destroy him?

…What exactly _was_ holding her back from striking now, anyway?

She wanted dearly to believe that it was her spirit, which could not find peace in such an easy, unsatisfying kill within a battle that held such grave importance to her on a personal level. Yet to her misfortune, she was almost certain that the sake of her honor in combat was not nearly as much of a deterrent as her appetite for potential self destruction; to play his game and hear the brazen words of which he was apparently so very self-assured.

Reminding herself the extent to which she hated him, Misaki braced herself in a pose dually convenient for both defensive and offensive maneuvers. Her heart pounded a little too quickly in her chest, and the girl seriously wondered if, as a trained predator, Illumi could smell her spell of unease in the air.

His steps were slow and steady but never yielding, one and then another. His eyes were on hers, fixated and studying the girl for any sign (no matter how slight) of alteration there.

"You've improved quite an impressive amount in a fairly short time," he said tonelessly, his eyes falling onto the parasol. "When I first saw your ability, I knew you were a manipulator."

Misaki's amber eyes stayed focus, her expression so still it appeared inanimate. Inwardly she loathed herself for being so pathetically excited and curious, begging herself to advance now and silence him for good.

"That's where my supposition comes in. As a manipulator it is not possible to use enhancer techniques to their full potential… or even half as effective as someone born into that category. At first I was fooled into believing that your ability defied some of that."

Despite the rush of fear coursing through her, understanding that he likely knew something which she had never disclosed to anyone, Misaki fought vigilantly to uphold her composure.

"You fooled me for a while. I believed you were somehow able to tap into enhancer techniques beyond reason because of how much you had advanced your ability's offensive and defensive balance over a small period of time. The fact that you were actually just using _Shu_ didn't hit me for a long time… But if that's the case, how could it be possible for you to apply aura in a way that grows significantly between each encounter we've had, you and I?"

Had this always been his purpose for keeping in contact with her? Misaki nearly cringed, if for no other reason then simply as a reaction to the absurdly delighted wave that hit her over the notion that he had, unbeknownst to her all this while, paid such diligent attention to some part of her. She reminded herself that if he continued on this track successfully, it would be the key to her undoing in no time.

'_Kill him_,' she mentally ordered herself. '_Kill him now_!'

…But she didn't, and much to her dismay, _could not_. The girl was powerless to do more than simply stand and listen as he picked apart her safeguard, all the while almost _too_ aware that she was practically staring death in the face… and apparently death was being inhumanly patient this day.

"I realized that there was a possibility that you were using some sort of vow or limitation on your ability for this to be possible," he continued, still drawing ever nearer. "It took me years to understand your secret, but now everything is clear."

'_Kill him_!' her mind screamed; desperately, frantically.

He was standing before her now, and still her body was frozen in its fighter stance as he cupped her chin and tilted her face upward towards his. The adrenaline was moving through her again, begging her to act. She hated the rush of excitement pumping through her simply for being in such close proximity him…

"The answer was right in front of me all along, wasn't it?" He paused for a moment before elaborating. "You never accept a contract you won't finish… is that correct?"

If he had been expecting a verbal response, he did not receive one regardless. Misaki attempted to settle her nerves so as not to reveal to him the extent of the fear and discomfort she was experiencing, but…unfortunately…

"That was the piece I had overlooked before… The one thing that always changed between our… meetings… You were completing contracts."

As if it were a reflex, Misaki swung her free hand at his throat. The angle was neither clever nor particularly off-setting, and Illumi caught her wrist with ease, placing his thumb over her pulse and holding it there.

"And now," he said, readjusting his stance just enough to tower over her, "I have to wonder… what would happen to your ability if you could not complete your contract?"

Frozen, tense muscles were helpless under his grasp, and Misaki could not prevent something as natural as her pupils dilating. She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, but it was useless. He already knew the power he held over her…

'_How could this happen_?' was her only clear thought amongst a jumble of hazy other ones.

"Are you able to tell me that?" he asked with slightly more vigor to his voice than usual. "Can you tell me right now that you won't be able to complete my contract and still have enough aura left over to fight me… or did you wager everything for the gift of these increases?"

Silence.

"What would happen if I cancelled the contract because of your inability to carry it through; are the repercussions the same?"

Silence.

"Instead you're willing to lose everything because you feel something for that boy. I'll let you think it over for a minute, but I'm starting to lose my patience with you."

Her body folded helplessly onto the ground, and it took the girl a moment to recognize that he had released her from his hold and that Illumi must have been the one somehow supporting her weight. Withdrawing her face into her hair (which had managed to half dislodge itself from the elastic holder), she used her palms to stop herself from face planting into the dirt at his feet. His stare was strong, and she could feel his eyes scanning through her.

She had failed, but… but…

"You're wrong;" she whispered meekly, "that boy means nothing to me."

He did not reply.

"All this time you've watched… and never really _seen_…. I do not care about that boy."

Cocking his head from above her, Illumi stated blankly, "If that is true, tell me why you are so hesitant to kill him."

She could have lied. She could have refused to speak. She could have even chosen a reasonable, _partial_ truth about L.I.G.H.T. and the eruption. Instead she spoke, and she spoke a truth so honest that it had even managed to evade _her_ until the very moment she heard herself weakly admit it aloud:

"He is… very important to your brother and I… have grown to respect Killua..."


	51. Chapter Fifty: Loss and Gain

Varying degrees of darkness shifted from behind the shelter of the girl's eyelids. There was a terrible stiffness in her wrists and spine, as well as a searing pain in her abdomen that burned like liquid fire from within her core. Her mouth tasted of stale blood and metal, and her jaw ached even without the strain of moving it.

'_Where am I?_'

Her very thoughts were groggy and took an uncomfortable amount of effort to form coherently, making her understand even while lacking the skill to naturally analyze her situation that either she had suffered a formidable degree of head trauma or tremendous blood loss.

With as much of her attention span as she could muster at one time given the circumstances, Misaki quietly focused on her surroundings while still attempting to feign slumber in the meantime. Admittedly this was not a simple task, as using _En_ would easily alert an assailant of her sudden consciousness, (although she was unconvinced that in her current state she could perform such an application at all). Even when it appeared that there were no notable traces of aura in the surrounding area, the girl was not particularly confident in her own assessment.

"We're even now," Killua's voice announced coldly.

Her brows twitched slightly at the unexpected sound of his voice. What had happened? Where was she? Why was Killua…?

She supposed she already knew the answer to the final question, even while the events prior were temporarily an unobtainable blur.

"What do you mean?" she whispered hoarsely, her voice startlingly meeker than she'd been expecting.

Her response was silence, and for a moment she wondered if he had moved away from her. It did not seem unreasonable, especially since she had not sensed him there at all before. She opened her eyes to find herself staring directly into his.

Immediately the girl recognized that he was struggling internally, despite the hollow and uncaring expression frozen onto his features. It was somehow reminiscent of a mirror, and she was stunned to somehow see herself reflected there in him; battered, broken, and still searching desperately with what scraps of humanity were left, if any.

_You can't save me, you know…_

The dream was coming back to her full force, and yet she found herself unable to be bitter over the return of such comparatively unnecessary information next to the loss of the events which had actually occurred. She could almost see the long, black strands of hair smothering the boy's pale body.

_It'll find me again; it __always__ finds me_.

Why was she crying now? The tears slipped silently back into her disheveled hair, her body aching excruciatingly with each convulsion of her chest. She exhaled a tight, strained breath, thrusting forth her weight to force her form into a sitting position. Immediately she regretted the decision, the pain almost enough to steal her consciousness again. She let out a sound of weakness, unable to mentally reprimand herself for it before another wave of agony hit her immensely stinging stomach.

"Idiot," he mumbled as a clammy sensation overwhelmed her body. "You could never beat him. You almost died."

As she elongated her jaw in reaction to the aching torment, a sharp jolt rocketed through the rounded edge where the bones met the throat, causing an involuntary whimper to escape her. As her body began to slouch forward, she realized that it was hindered by some sort of splint-like contraption on her back, fastened in place by a make-shift body wrap. It was a few more moments before she realized that the off-white cloth had once been a shirt, and even longer before she reached a point where she could relate the fact that Killua was currently exposed from the waist up.

"You underestimate… your own potential," she panted out between shaky breaths as she found a position to keep the pain at bay, "so you're in no position to evaluate mine."

For a second he looked almost sympathetic, but just as quickly the expression gave way to a more hardened one.

"Idiot," he repeated. "The only thing that saved you from losing was me."

"Then you're right… at last, we are even… Zoldyck, Killua."

He stiffened, leaning in as his mouth parted as if to impulsively shout some undecided response. However, he seemed to catch himself and slowly the anger and excessive defensiveness died away, and only his balled fists at his side remained as evidence of his near outburst.

Slowly so as not to disturb her body positioning significantly, Misaki reached out her right hand and rested her fingertips on the back of his knuckles. She felt his muscles twitch beneath her touch, and as her gaze shifted downwards toward the connection, she caught sight of the pool of dried blood that had seeped down the back of her wrist. Curious, she tilted her palm upward marginally until she could see the exposed veins on the underside; the flesh pierced and now purpling with signs of infection.

"Tanoh, Misaki…" His voice was hollow, but less outwardly cold than it had been previously. His eyes lowered as he whispered, "I've paid back my debt to you… but don't think this means that I forgive you."

She closed her amber eyes, resisting the urge to angle her chin toward her chest.

"I was never asking for your forgiveness. After everything that has happened, it would be an insult and…" She swallowed awkwardly before continuing. "…My intention is not, nor was it ever, to insult you."

"Then why…!" He stopped abruptly, regaining his composure.

"Killua… I do what I am hired to do. I… was never supposed to really know you."

"Hired?" His voice was so soft she was scarce certain she'd heard him speak at all. He seemed to be considering it diligently in the realm of his own mind.

"I broke the rules," she explained monotonously. "Therefore, there are consequences I have to face."

He shook his head.

"Idiot."

"It was never you I was hired for. Take some sort of solace in that, if you will. I'm entirely willing to accept your consequences as well, don't you see?"

His hand clenched tighter in remembrance of what he had seen and done. He did not wish to discuss consequences, as he knew his own punishment for his brash actions in the face of his brother would be coming swiftly and in the near future. He suppressed a shudder, though the tickling sensation left in its wake caused the hairs on his arms to stand erect.

"After everything that-…" he began, trailing off and changing his mind halfway through. "You're a piece of work, old lady."

She smiled just enough for him to detect it.

"I suppose your entire family views the world through night vision goggles… but those don't work as well in the day, do they, Killua?"

"What is _that _supposed to mean?" he snapped, finally retracting his hand from beneath hers and breaking the connection.

"Everything and nothing."

"No, explain it."

"It means… whatever you would like it to mean."

"You're a liar. That's not what it means."

"You're right, it's not."

The room fell eerily silent. Feeling slightly irritated and at a loss for his initial resolve now, Killua turned toward the exit.

Just as he reached the door, Misaki gently said, "Thank you for sparing my life."

"_Saving_," he corrected her.

"Thank you for _sparing_ my life, Killua."

He placed his hand on the door handle, gripping it excessively tight.

"Don't ever mention it again," he replied in a voice of mild but unmistakable warning before he exited without even a single glance back.

Misaki's lips upturned into a wide, insuppressible grin. Somehow, fate had brought Killua to her, and she was oddly comforted by the thought that he would be back again soon; once he had checked in with Gon, she supposed. Of course he would not risk bringing his dear friend here, as she had openly threatened his life. In fact, it was a wonder that he was willing to spare her considering such. Perhaps there was even more to him than she had earlier assessed; not that her previous judgments had been poor. He was far more human than even she was, she comprehended now. It was somehow awe-inspiring, at the very least.

'_He __**will**__ come back_.'

Until then she simply needed to focus her energy on her recovery; both of her physical body and her memories of what had occurred during her fight with Illumi.

Her emotional rehabilitation could wait. After all, her emotional scars were a product of the same tangible source as Killua's, and they both had a fair deal of work set out for them.

'_The only thing I cannot do is relapse_,' she inwardly insisted, vowing to adhere to this lone rule with everything left within her.


	52. Ch Fifty-One: Respect and Backtracking

"_…I have grown to respect Killua..._"

Killua was seated upon an upside down crate, using the heels of his shoes against the wooden corners to keep his legs from dangling off the edge. His arms enveloped his bent knees, causing his back to arch forward slightly. His eyes wandered just below his makeshift chair to Gon, who was snoozing with his head partially bowed and arms folded while leaning back in a position that was just off from being upright.

Taking refuge after operating hours in a warehouse was hardly preferable, but at least it felt safer than either hanging around Haku's place or relying on hotel rooms to shelter them. After all, he knew that Illumi would likely look for him in those sorts of places first, and this way at least he could buy some time until a better solution presented itself.

Rather, he _wanted_ to find a better solution, but Misaki had once again served only to distract him. She had betrayed him, and yet she was unaware of his presence she had told Illumi… she had said…

"_…I have grown to respect Killua..._"

A disgruntled sigh escaped him, and he narrowed his eyes at nothing in particular. He was at a crossroad now; stuck between his rational side deliberating that Misaki was a danger to him and a liability, and his instincts torn over the need to escape from both the girl and Illumi while his desire to understand her constantly arose to complicate matters.

Respect…? How could it be that she could respect him and meanwhile have taken part in his humiliation? For that matter, what _was_ respect, anyway?

He glanced over Gon once more. Gon was his friend, but did that mean that he _respected_ him? He had saved him and brought him into a world he never would have been permitted to touch otherwise, always lighting the way with his determined optimism… did _that_ mean he respected him?

In truth he used to equate respect with physical strength and power, but now that he was no longer dwelling at home, he supposed he could question the idea. He had always translated his fear of Illumi as "respect" when he was younger, and that was as good a reason as any to challenge it, was it not?

Moreover, he wondered whether he particularly wanted Misaki's respect, and if not then why had he…

* * *

He and Gon had been hiding in the bushes, having unintentionally run across Illumi and Misaki amidst Gon's outburst and subsequent running off. Killua was as stupefied upon first hearing Misaki's claim as he was currently considering it, and he simply watched in silence with his mind seemingly still and rushing all at once.

Her hands were palm-down in the dirt before Illumi's feet. Killua noticed the slight tension that was not typically apparent from his brother show itself elusively and then disappear beneath the ever-present mask. The older boy frowned and tilted his head downwards, capturing his chin in his own hand in thought.

"Well, that's no good," he announced, his eyelids half closing. "I hired you to kill Gon, not to waste time fraternizing with Kil'."

Unconsciously, Killua leaned closer to his friend, clasping his tanned wrist in his hand. Gon would react, and this was not the time to act impulsively. Even so, the paler boy clenched his teeth at the realization of Misaki's intended purpose amongst them.

"If someone like you spent enough time with Kil' to think that you have respect for him now, then maybe Kil' thinks the same thing about you and that means that you're another 'friend' that will distract him…which means you have to be destroyed, too."

The girl's eyes were low and dull. She said nothing, only filled her fists with soil, bowing her head in defeat and leaving herself vulnerable to attack.

'_Idiot, don't let your guard down_.'

Illumi glanced up and snapped his fingers suddenly, lifting his index finger as though to illustrate his sudden "epiphany".

"Ah! But if Gon is destroyed and you're willing to follow my conditions regarding Kil', then maybe we can reach an agreement."

At first the girl did not budge, though after a few long, drawn out moments she slowly shifted and raised herself to her feet. She kept her face turned low.

"Then you're saying," she said tonelessly, "that I wouldn't have to die?"

Illumi waited until she angled her stare toward him and then smiled slightly, despite speaking no words. Misaki glanced quietly back at the ground.

"I see…" she murmured, drawing a single step toward him. "So then I would kill Gon and obey your rules… and everything would be as it was before?"

This time she did not look to him for any response before advancing nearer.

"You and I could more or less come and go as we pleased and cross paths here and there..." The girl paused as she stood toe to toe with him, looking him in the eye. "All would be forgiven and we could…"

She slipped her fingers through his hair and without warning grasped a fistful and yanked his face to her level, arching in her spine towards him.

"…do as we did before?"

Despite seemingly motioning to kiss him, Misaki savagely pinched his bottom lip between her teeth until the flesh was successfully punctured, pulling away from the flow of blood only to thrust forth the tip of her umbrella, which she had summoned to her during the act, at his abdomen.

Unfortunately this cheap shot was apparently expected more or less, and before the weapon could make contact with him, Illumi retaliated by tossing two pins her way; one into either of her wrists. Misaki immediately lost her grip on the umbrella as she withdrew a few steps, grimacing noticeably.

She was done for, and Killua very well recognized the fact. Illumi was already drawing more needles and she was virtually defenseless. He was closing in again, unfazed by the seeping wound on his lower lip.

"Misaki…" He was as composed as always as he stood before the girl. "Is this your way of telling me that you disagree with my offer?"

"It's my way of telling you that I think you're the most despicable human being I've ever known," she hissed, violently wrenching the pins from her wrists and throwing them into the dirt.

Killua shifted onto the ball of his foot. He was stunned at this change in position, as it suggested that he was preparing to suddenly intervene… That wasn't possible, was it?

He watched his brother reach out with speed that Misaki was unable to match in defense and take her jaw into his hand and secure it firmly, whispering something to her that Killua could not hear but that made the girl's eyes widen uncharacteristically.

"Gon… meet me back at Haku's place," he insisted in a hoarse whisper.

Before he could account for his actions or give his friend a chance to object, Killua pushed off his back foot and positioned himself behind the girl, slamming his palm down on her vertebrae and collecting her subsequently unconscious body in single swoop. For a small fraction of a second, his eyes met Illumi's, and a chill ran through him straight to the core as he sprinted away with Misaki's sleep-weighted body in tow.

The consequences for this would be dire, he knew. Although the fact that he was capable of such defiance was news even to himself, and he tried to keep from feeling prideful for the act that essentially spelled out his own demise.


	53. Chapter Fifty-Two: Common Ground

"I knew you would come back. I was waiting."

Killua dragged the heavy freezer door back into position, not allowing himself to appear fazed by the girl's comment. The latter half of the statement was sheer idiocy, as far as he was concerned, as Misaki was still in excessively poor physical shape. The splint he had so been so kind as to craft and secure to her spine doubled in use to keep her broken rib from puncturing through the flesh by upholding her posture. It also applied contrasting pressure to the spot where he may have shifted the bone out of alignment. She wasn't particularly capable of leaving, and so announcing that she had been waiting seemed to him foolish and redundant.

The initial expression however, did in fact cause him some discomfort. Perhaps the girl had loaded the comment with the same asinine inspiration she'd channeled throughout the rest of it, but the thought in isolation was detestable. Was it not bad enough that Illumi held so much over him; including things he still felt he could not understand fully, without this stupid…_lackey_ of his reiterating a similar power over his personal motivations?

Yet it was difficult to keep things in perspective, and even more difficult to properly blame Misaki for everything he wanted to blame her for when he had betrayed his own sense of logic and rescued her at the cost of his safety. Could he reasonably condemn her for the things she hadn't even done when he had abandoned his own duties to pursue personal interest? Was it sensible to consider her exempt from the very same compassion he was willing to review reasonably for himself?

He glanced up at her finally, realizing that too much time had elapsed to reply to her original 'greeting' either way. Her lips were a grim line across her face, though oddly her eyes seemed to do the smiling for her. She was lying down again, her head marginally tilted in his direction.

He set down a tray onto a rolling steel cart sitting adjacent to him and moved it next to the counter she was positioned upon.

"You're feeding me?" she asked with an arched brow.

With a smirk that dripped with irony he replied, "I'm not your old man."

She mimed the act of laughing and then said, "I would thank you if I wasn't being locked up in a warehouse freezer."

"Are you going to eat it or not?"

The girl struggled to shrug for a moment before giving up and using her energy instead to hoist herself slowly and painfully into a seated position. With a trembling hand she reached for the tray, plucking a single, thick noodle from it and holding it between her thumb and index finger at her mouth. The blankets around her shoulders slipped, and she borrowed a long moment to correct it before continuing.

"So, what exactly is the plan?" she suddenly questioned between bites.

"What plan?"

"Well," she said, avoiding eye contact for a moment, "you interrupted my fight to bring me here… Is it foolish for me to assume that you had a plan?"

Killua scowled. The topic bothered him, though in truth his actual lack of foresight was the cause. Nonetheless he disliked being confronted with it, particularly by Misaki.

"Interrupted your fight?" he repeated coldly, attempting to focus on her failure rather than his own. "If I hadn't gotten involved, you'd be dead now."

"You've already said as much. I just thought you might have had a reason for saving me… some sort of clever scheme or something of the like."

Killua lowered his stare, feeling partially trapped in both the conversation as well as within his own body and mind. The discussion had turned from one of his shortcomings to another, and worse, one he still did not understand. Why had he bothered to help Misaki? Was it simply because she had told Illumi that she respected him? Was that even a good enough reason to put himself at risk?

It sounded wrong no matter how many times he ran the possibility through his head, and yet he could find no better reasoning. Yet there were more elements of contradiction. She had not necessarily expressed any particular attachment to Gon, and had ventured as far to say that he meant absolutely nothing to her. In fact, she hadn't specifically stated that she would _not_ kill Gon, and so her presence should have been labeled as a potential threat to his dear friend. Although Killua had taken precautions, such as locking the girl in a commercial warehouse freezer away from his comrade, he still couldn't rationally justify putting Gon at risk… and yet was that not _exactly_ what he was doing?

He wondered if he could even blame it on his own selfishness, as he could hardly understand why he should even want to keep this walking liability around him. Was he still secretly feuding with his eldest brother somehow; bringing Misaki here simply under the pretense that in doing so Illumi couldn't have her? Was he even capable of such a profound level of defiance?

"Are you going to fight him?"

Her question, emitted so casually between mouthfuls, startled him somehow. Unfortunately she seemed to notice this, and her eyes softened. Killua inherently despised the suggestion of being pitied and hardened his glare.

"You're the one who told me all that junk about not taking your family for granted."

"Yes, and I stand by it whole-heartedly," she agreed. "I was only asking because if you _were_ planning to fight him, I would have to stand down."

"What do you mean 'stand down'?"

"He's your brother, and if it turns out you really wanted to fight him then I would have to wait until you were finished before I could challenge him again."

"You think that you can fight him like _this_? You pretty much lost and last time you went in without any wounds…"

"Yes, but coming out alive is not necessarily the purpose for a fight like this."

Killua scrunched his face involuntarily.

"You should always fight to win, idiot."

"Maybe winning means something different to me than it does to you, Killua."

He sucked in a sharp breath and let it out slowly, staring at his visible breath as it swirled and disappeared into the frigid air.

"Are you still going to kill Gon?" His voice was firm and tainted with loathing.

"I can't answer that question."

"Why not?"

"It's a dangerous question and the answer could have serious repercussions."

He considered her response (which he found to be quite a poor one) for a moment before slamming his fist against the steel rolling cart.

"Your revulsion looks good on you," she whispered after a beat.

"What the hell does that mean?"

She was silent for a moment.

"It means that I'm sorry for hurting you."

His pale features looked doubtful amidst the confusion.

"I'm sorry that I put my job ahead of your feelings… and mine… and I'm sorry that I have to warn you that it will probably happen again," she explained.

There was anger creasing in his expression now.

"I don't know any other way to act."

"Don't you want to change?" he asked hesitantly.

Inwardly he recognized that most individuals in the business were ruthless. He had grown up inside that world. Gon had helped him understand that he was an exception to that vast majority.

"It's not about what I want. It's about who I am."

"Well, who are you then?" he asked, his tone echoing the irritation he felt.

She smiled weakly, running her fingertips over a faded scar on her forearm.

"I'm second place to my job, Killua. I can't promise you that I can really exist outside of it anymore..."

"Shut up! That's a stupid excuse," he spat. "Are you telling me that playing cards and reading were part of your job? Stop feeling sorry for yourself and agree to help us, or I'll throw you back out there to Illumi and you two can just kill each other for all I care!"

Her eyes widened and he knew he had struck a nerve. After a moment she smiled and reached shakily over to muss his hair.

"You moron," she chuckled out softly, endearingly. "I was already planning to help you or I wouldn't have asked what you had planned in the first place."

Killua was certain to turn away before foolishly smiling; an overwhelming sense of multiple victories rushing through him and turning his cheeks a peachy shade of pink through the slight breech of adrenaline. For a moment, he felt that his existence was his own to control and manipulate at will.

As it happened, that moment was just enough to elate his mood significantly.


End file.
